Kismet
by Hermia S
Summary: Thane Krios is nothing like Hermia Shepard originally assumed, but she is not the only one having her preconceptions shattered.
1. Chapter 1

"You always this chock full of nervous energy, commander?"

Hermia pulled herself out of her own thoughts with a quiet, "Hm?" All the stars and systems that made up the galaxy map were intriguing. It was a step up - a _big_ step up - from the galaxy map on the SR-1. Then again, everything on the new Normandy was larger. She wasn't surprised that the Illusive Man's idea of better directly coincided with it being bigger. This was a man whose office overlooked a dying star, after all.

Beside her, Yeoman Chambers gave a little laugh. "You've been tapping your foot for the past five minutes. And that data pad's gonna break if you keep hitting it on the bar."

Shepard's gray eyes widened at the idea, quickly moving the data pad away from the rail with a laugh. "I, uh, didn't realize I was doing that." She tilted a brow upwards, a smile curling at her mouth. "Was I distracting you, Kelly?"

"Oh, no, commander. I was just watching -" The redhead coughed into a balled fist, her cheeks darkening a little at her own unwarranted admission. "Waiting for you to pick a destination."

Hermia leaned over the railing to place the data pad on her terminal. After receiving three new dossiers from the Illusive Man, she'd been given the task of figuring out where they'd be heading next. It was good to see a familiar name on them. Tali'Zorah vas Neema was one of the three. At any other turn, the decision of who to pursue next would have been easy. But on Illium, in the city of Nos Astra, there were two potential recruits - a powerful biotic and an assassin. Given the conditions, being able to recruit the two of them as soon as possible looked to be the best option.

"EDI," she called out, turning to the galaxy map, "Plot a course to Illium."

"Very well, Shepard. ETA two hours."

The AI blinked out of sight, leaving Shepard standing with her arms crossed in front of the map. Everyone else went about their business. Except Kelly. The yeoman focused all of her attention on the commander, hands clasped behind her back. "So, who are we headed to, commander?"

"The assassin," Hermia murmured, mostly to herself as she began to look around for the data pad. She was always all hands when she misplaced something - patting down her outfit, running her hands through her dark hair, biting on her thumb nail. Turning to Kelly, she beamed a confused expression at the young woman, who only laughed and pointed towards her private terminal. "Ah! Thank you." Snatching it up, her eyes began to quickly run over the details, devouring every morsel of intel she'd already poured over more than once before.

"Thane Krios," she said quietly, "Drell. I've… never seen a drell before." Her finger trailed along the photo of her next recruit, and she watched as it rotated accordingly. Interesting facial structure. Vaguely humanesque despite the many differences. Handsome. Biting down on the inside of her bottom lip, she turned her attention to Kelly. "Have you?"

Kelly grinned. "Once or twice. They're an intriguing race. Most of their history isn't readily available in books or on the extranet, but they are all very willing to share."

There was something about young Miss Chambers that got just about anyone talking. She knew a lot about Shepard - even more than the rest of the galaxy, which was a feat in itself considering all the information available on her life - but the commander was still eager to share certain tidbits of information that she couldn't possibly know. Her favorite color was always blue. Her favorite meal was corn and tomato soup, her mother's old recipe, especially if the vegetables were home grown. If she got enough liquor in her system, she might even confess that men still made her nervous, despite being thirty-one.

Kelly knew that after Mindoir, Hermia dove into her education and, later, her work with the Alliance. She didn't give herself the time to agonize over every decision she made during the attack. Instead, she focused on what was in front of her - including a very apt mind and a gift with technology. To her, hacking and programming was much more fulfilling than sparring with the other marines or going out for drinks. For the longest time, her reputation suffered because of it. Of course, everyone shut their mouths once a sniper rifle was placed in her arms and she showed them that she wasn't just some mousy, forgetful tech nerd.

Shepard was never able to prove herself enough. When she made a breakthrough, she immediately started working on the next one. Each time she hit a target, she focused on the next. A virus destroyed, another virus located. A target acquired and destroyed, the next one would come along in no time. Most of her fellow marines didn't realize exactly what sort of person lay behind the sights of her sniper rifle. There were a few who realized Shepard's potential, and they egged her on more than encouraged her. Always responding better under pressure, she reached for the next highest rung on the ladder and just kept going.

Elysium was common knowledge for anyone in the Systems Alliance. Even aliens in the far reaches of Citadel space knew what she'd accomplished that day. Overwhelming odds. Single-handedly. Brave. A hero. Words like those echoed in her ears for years after, but she didn't let herself go soft. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened after being awarded the Star of Terra. She kept going. She reached higher.

"- you can imagine my surprise. The hanar don't seem like the kind of… Commander?"

Shepard tore herself away from her own thoughts again, rubbing at her forehead. "Oh, Kelly, I'm so sorry. I'm just distracted." She hadn't been sleeping well. That paired with the stress of the mission and her frantically grabbing at every opportunity to keep her new squad members happy wasn't conducive to the most alert woman in the galaxy.

Her eyes fell to her arm when she felt a soft weight settle upon it. "Don't worry about it, commander." When Hermia gave her a small smile in return, the yeoman brightened, withdrawing her hand and lacing it with the other. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

"I should probably try to get some sleep before we get to Illium. Can you take care of any messages for me?" The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it. Of course Kelly would take care of the messages. She always did. With a smile, too. How had the Illusive Man found this teasure? Standing beside Miranda, it was difficult to imagine they worked for the same organization. But after talking to Rupert and Ken and Gabby down in Engineering, she came to realize that Miranda was the odd one out, and even the Illusive Man's favorite operative had a soft side Hermia hadn't quite managed to understand. Yet. There'd be time for that later.

"Of course, commander. Have a good nap!"

As if on cue, Hermia stifled a yawn. Laughing at herself, she took the few steps down from the galaxy map. "Thanks, Kelly."

--

If there was one thing Shepard learned during her early tours, it's that you can get just about anything by being nice. Her fellow marines were quick to shove their pistols into the faces of civilians, offering threats as opposed to comfort or empathy. Even bribery was popular among the higher-ups. Most of them claimed it was just good business, but she knew otherwise. And as she settled down beside Seryna on their way to the Dantius towers, these opinions were rightfully justified.

Jacob and Garrus sat behind her in the transport, divided and utterly silent as they prepared for the mission ahead. Shepard watched the horizon, dazzled in no small part by the cars that flashed by against the deep reds and golds of the sunset. Everything here was so beautiful. It was a far cry from her first visit to Earth. Illium was not lackluster in the slightest. It was a bustling metropolis filled with beautiful architecture and even more beautiful residents. If she even remembered what shore leave was, she'd already be set in her plans of visiting this place.

Her conversation with Seryna ended just as they settled on the first of two Dantius towers. The asari was curious as to her business with Thane Krios, but she did not ask many questions. Not many people asked Shepard questions - even less now that she wasn't just humanity's first Spectre and the savior of the Citadel, but a ghost, too.

Hermia took a step out of the transport, followed by Garrus and Jacob, and she gave the asari a nod when she wished her luck. Did she need luck? It seemed like she was dealing with mercs more often than she had ever before her death. Part of her just felt like she was going through the motions.

Pulling her rifle off of her back, she looked to Jacob and then to Garrus. They both seemed just as ready as she was. And considering the adrenaline that was already pumping through her veins, that was _extremely_ ready.

Anyone who knew Shepard on the battlefield was always surprised when they met her off of it, and vice versa. Anderson's teasing nickname for her was proof enough that there was a fine schism between Commander Shepard and Hermia Shepard. Jekyll was what he called her. Not because she turned into a madman once she had her first taste of action, but because she transformed into a complete other person once the bullets started flying.

She was a streak of black and blue as she ran across the bridge dividing the two Dantius towers. A well-timed vault launched her over a crate just far enough for her to duck behind another. Her shields were just hanging on by the time she reached it, and she gave them a moment to regenerate before she popped up over the crate, rifle poised in the direction of a rocket turret not seventy-five meters in front of her.

Everything slowed around her. Jacob took care of the asari vanguard standing beneath it, and Garrus picked off two of the mercs by her side. "Get over here!" Jacob shouted, his entire body pulsing with dark energy as he yanked the vanguard from behind the partition separating them. Garrus pressed his back to a column, the barrel of his gun nearly resting against his face as he caught his breath. His shields were gone.

All the while Hermia's steady hands shifted the rifle just enough so the turret lay right in her sights. Beneath her index, the trigger urged her to press it. But the siren's call was one she could easily tear herself away from, and she jerked the rifle to the side, pulling the trigger. The sniper with his sights on Garrus slumped forward, blue blood oozing out of the hole in his chest plate.

Before she could see if Garrus had come away from it unscathed, she pulled herself down into cover again. The crate nearly exploded as a missile hit, her entire body shuddering from the impact. "Jacob, cover me!" she yelled as she jumped to her feet. The man did as she ordered, climbing over one of the many crates on the bridge only to pop another heat sink into his hand cannon and mow down a merc heading straight for them.

Her rifle found its way back to the turret, and she had just enough time to hit it right in the kisser before it launched another. The machine's barrel sunk, broken.

Shepard's rifle slid into itself as she drew her submachine gun instead. "Let's get this over with," she muttered when both Jacob and Garrus found their way back to her side. "Nassana's waiting for us."

By the time they reached the very top of Dantius tower, Shepard found that the assassin had already performed a number on the usually collected asari emissary. She was surrounded by guards, all of them as clumsy with their weapons as the mercs she'd hired to kill whoever entered or tried to leave. They jerked around, paranoid. Almost as paranoid as Nassana herself.

Hermia bit back a smile as she stepped into the sunlight that filtered into the large office. The asari's eyes widened. "Shepard?" Nassana nearly choked on her shock. "But… you're dead!"

"I got better," she replied simply with a slight hitch of her shoulder.

She could hear Garrus chuckle quietly to her right, and the asari glared at him. He didn't even take a step back. They had superior firepower as well as superior training. These half-assed mercenaries wouldn't stand a chance, neither would a silver spoon fed diplomat.

Nassana's stare went to Shepard. "And now you're here to kill me," she murmured. Her eyes narrowed at the once-dead commander, realization of the situation written all over her features. The guards at her back readied their weapons, bodies taut and ready for whatever Shepard threw at them. At least, that's what they thought. "I'm sure you find this all very ironic."

With a dismissive wave of her hand, she turned her back on Shepard. The setting sun cast a shadow over her frame, yet outlined it with a faint orange glow. It certainly was a beautiful place to meet one's end. The view from this far up was spectacular. "First you take care of my sister, and now you're here for me." She uttered a quiet sigh, turning around to face the woman who she assumed came here to kill her. "Well, you've made it this far. Now what?"

Hermia's brow creased, and she took a step forward. "I'm not an assassin Nassana," she offered, lifting her gun casually as if in an offer of peace. The asari's guards inched forward, poised to strike, but she didn't give them a second glance. "But I am looking for one."

Nassana gave a flippant laugh, moving forward from her shelter of guards. Towards her desk, closer to Shepard, the woman who'd once done her a great favor. Unwittingly, true, but a great favor. Frustration bubbled inside of her. She knew Shepard was a worthy adversary. If what the bitch said was true, who was the assassin? She'd just gone through a hundred mercenaries _at least_, but why? "You break in here and decimate my security just to find the person who's here to kill me? What are you playing at, Shepard?"

The guard to her left shifted on her feet. Her purple head twisted and turned. "What?" Nassana spat, annoyed by her interruption.

"I heard something," the guard replied.

Nassana's shoulders slumped inwards, her hands pressed against her desk. "Damnit." She seethed visibly. Throwing her hand to the right towards the door on the side of the room, she barked her orders. "Check the other entrances!" There was venom in her voice when she turned to Shepard, a single index pointed towards the soldier. "You… stay put. When I'm finished dealing with this nuisance -"

That was when Shepard saw him. The man moved like nothing she'd ever seen. His feet were silent. His hands, strong. Strong enough to break a man's neck and crush another's windpipe in only a few swift movements. Before the second silent victim crumpled to the floor, he drew the man's gun and shot the asari guard in the chest.

Nassana whirled around, gun in hand and eyes wide, but she couldn't pull the trigger quickly enough. No one could've. He was too quick.

Shepard's heart jumped as the assassin pressed the stolen gun into Nassana's side and pulled the trigger. She'd seen fast before. Hell, she _was_ fast more often than not, but he was like smoke. Existing and not existing at the same exact moment. She watched as he slowly lowered Nassana down onto her desk, hands cradling her now limp body as if he would break her. But she was already broken.

"That was quite the entrance," Jacob remarked, but the man did not show signs of hearing him. Instead, he stood above Nassana's body, hands clasped together in what appeared to be… prayer. The silence that filled the room was unpleasant considering the state of things. Four dead bodies and four live ones, none of them speaking.

Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Shepard finally spoke up. "I came a long way to talk to you."

"One moment," the assassin said in a near-whisper. His voice hummed in her ears, reminiscent of the rumble of a turian, but something deeper, something more substantial. He did not look up at her. Instead, his large, black eyes gazed upon his newest victim. "Prayers for the wicked should not be forsaken."

Hermia allowed herself one half-smile. "She certainly was wicked."

"Not for her," was his simple reply. His eyes moved from the corpse to Shepard, and she found herself staring into them. Large. Black. Bottomless. "For me." Before she was able to interject and voice her confusion, his lips parted, and his voice filled every inch of the room. "The measure of an individual can be difficult to discern by actions alone."

As he spoke, he moved around the front of the desk. His hand trailed along the metal, almost caressing it. The man held a certain swagger in his walk - graceful, poised, and dangerous. But also inviting. A little too inviting, really, but that could've been why he was dangerous. He was an unknown quantity.

"Take you for instance," he offered, "All this destruction. Chaos." When he finally reached the front of the desk, he paused. She didn't know if this was all an act. He could be playing her for a fool for all she knew. Or perhaps he enjoyed the theatrical. Or maybe this was just how he worked.

"I was curious to see how far you'd go to find me." A hint of something curled in the corner of his lips. Was it a smile? She hardly knew. "Well… here I am."

* * *

**  
A/N:** Argh, I apologize for the shoddiness of the bit at the end with Nassana and Thane. Taking things directly from game or video gives me trouble, and I'm not nearly as confident with the characterization if it's from something word for word... I do hope that it'll get better from here, though. I noticed was lacking when it came to Thane fics and decided to add one to the fray, since I just finished his romance and I'm bursting with ideas.

Also, I apologize for the apology if you didn't think it was shoddy. I'm just more confident with my own words. XD Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

"Commander!"

Kelly's boisterous greeting was always a welcome part of Shepard's day. Before she was even all the way out of the elevator, the yeoman already had a data pad in hand and a smile on her face. Blowing on the piping hot liquid in her cup, Hermia made her way up beside her and glanced at the pad. "Anything urgent?" she asked, eyebrows peaked as she took a sip of the hot chocolate Mess Sergeant Gardner prepped for her special.

"Nothing too important," Kelly chimed, placing the data pad on her own terminal before turning toward Shepard. "If it's not too intrusive, I was wondering…" She trailed off, only picking the conversation back up when she received a gesture beckoning her words forward. "What do you think of Thane?"

Shepard paused, glancing down at her drink. What _did_ she think of Thane? His assassination was flawless. He was well-dressed. He had a nice voice. He also had an expiration date. But those were just the facts. Her opinion was half-formed at best, and probably wrong. "Huh," she began, resting a hip on the railing that led up onto the galaxy map. "That's a good question. I haven't said more than two words to him since he got on board. Why do you ask?"

The redhead's smile faded from toothy to something decidedly more mischievous. "He strikes me as very… mysterious. But then again, he's an assassin." She laughed to herself, "I don't know if I should find him scary or sexy."

"A lot of women find men like Thane attractive," Shepard said with a slight shrug. She wasn't really one of those women. She preferred her men strong and sensitive, quiet but not shy. Like Kaidan Alenko. There were moments in her life when she was much younger when she'd have taken some swaggering hitman over the steadiness and subtlety of someone like her friend.

Kelly's green eyes glinted playfully. "Are you one of those women, commander?"

The question came as Hermia was taking another sip of her hot chocolate, and she nearly choked on it, hand flying up to cover her mouth. How would the Illusive Man respond to the message requesting a new galaxy map "because Shepard spat hot chocolate all over the old one." Kelly's mouth twitched as she bit back a laugh at Shepard's expense.

Clearing her throat, Hermia took one long, stabilizing sip from her glass. "Not at all," she said with a confident tilt to her chin. "I prefer good, steady men. Like Joker."

"I heard that, commander."

"She was paying you a compliment, Mr. Moreau," EDI chimed in.

"No she wasn't," Joker replied before pressing the mute button on the AI for what felt like the thousandth time. "Oh, and I wasn't spying, Chambers, so don't say a word."

Kelly rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to Shepard, who stood there grinning. She enjoyed these moments. The bickering between the crew of the CIC and the bridge reminded her a lot of the old days. Elevators, mostly. Kelly rocked back onto her heels, hands clasped together. "You really don't find him attractive, commander? Not one bit?"

"Well, I'm not _blind_," Shepard confessed over the rim of her glass before taking another sip. Gardner was a genius in the kitchen once he had the proper supplies, and she was more than willing to go that extra mile to see her crew waddling around after dinner, complaining about their full stomachs instead of the meal itself. "But he's not my type. Plus, if you remember, we're on a mission here."

"See! I _knew_ you were a romantic, commander," the yeoman interjected. "I had you pegged for one fifteen minutes after our first conversation."

Shepard's eyes widened a little. "W-what?" she asked, "What do you mean? I said he _wasn't_ my type. And that we're on a mission. That means no fraternization. It'll only hinder your focus." She paused before continuing, her words nearly jumbling together. "How in the world does that make me a romantic? If anything, everything I've said should refute the notion."

When Kelly didn't respond at first, Shepard merely stood there, sipping hurriedly at her drink. Finally, Kelly tilted her head and smiled. "Call it woman's intuition!" She reached for the data pad and handed it to Hermia with another of her smiles. It was a smile that said 'hah, gotcha.' Though, really, Shepard didn't understand what was going on. "You have a good day, commander."

Shepard made her way back to the elevator, giving the data pad a cursory look over. It was news, of course, snatched up from some Illium extranet site. Diplomat Nassana Dantius found dead. Foul play suspected. "Really?" Shepard mused to herself before taking a swallow of hot chocolate. "Who'd have thought?" Data pad still grasped in her free hand, she selected the floor that would lead her to the crew members' quarters.

The ride was leisurely, but much quicker than the one she remembered from the Normandy. And Ash wondered why she hardly ever went visit. She felt years older when she finally stumbled out at the bottom. This time, however, the elevator door slid open mere moments after she'd chosen her destination.

Humming to herself, she gave the data pad another look as she strolled out of the elevator, sipping casually on the nearly-gone chocolate. She was so absorbed by the poor excuse for an article that she didn't see the figure standing in front of her until she'd stepped on its toes. Shepard let out a gasp of surprise as she jerked her eyes away from the pad and to whoever she'd run into.

"Commander Shepard."

Deep voice. Black eyes. Hermia glanced down at her arms, which were being held steady by two hands. Two very strong hands. Giving a little cough, she took a step back, carefully removing herself from his grasp. "Thane," she greeted, keeping her tone cordial. He tilted his head forward in something of a bow, forcing Shepard to avert her eyes. Right to her shoulder, where there was now a small splotch of brown. _Aw, damn_, she thought, patting at the spot. When she realized there was nothing she could do about it, she glanced back at him to see that he was still standing there. "Did you, uh, need to use the elevator?" she asked, throwing a thumb over her shoulder towards the console behind her.

"Actually, I was looking for you. The AI said you were in the CIC. I was just on my way there." He stood very still, hands clasped behind his back. No matter how much she tried to push Kelly's comments out of her head, it was like the yeoman had planted some evil chip very far in the back that kept whispering _scary and sexy, scary and sexy, scary and sexy_.

Shepard cleared her throat and tried her best to manage a smile. "I was on my way to Life Support. Actually. Well, I will be once I change. I spilled all over myself. A-ha." _Stop talking. Stop talking._ "Will you wait there for me?" she asked.

"Of course, Shepard," Thane replied with another slight bow of his head. He turned and left her standing there, staring after him.

It took her a moment to recover her focus, and it only came to her after the elevator doors slid shut again. "Well, that was special," she muttered to herself as she directed the console to bring her to her cabin. By the time she got there, half of her hot chocolate remained and had transitioned into lukewarm chocolate. A shame, really. Thankfully, she'd spilled it on her more casual outfit, which led her to be quite pleased with herself as she slipped into another. It was dressier and it made her feel more official. The high collar was a bit annoying, but she'd get over it.

Removing her hair from its bun, she combed her fingers through it, not as pleased with it as she had been with her outfit, but again, she'd get over it. Why worry about her appearance anyway? It was just a little hot chocolate stain. She didn't have anyone to impress. She set the data pad onto her desk and left the hot chocolate there. Just in case. There wouldn't be any more spilling on her watch.

The elevator ride down to the crew's quarters felt like it took forever. The sinking in her stomach as it slowed to a stop was a welcome feeling, and she actually had a genuine smile on her lips as she strode out of it and made the slight right turn to Life Support.

What had he wanted her for? Did he want to talk? If so, about what? Kelly told her that they were a race very willing to share their experiences. Did she want to hear his stories? At least part of her did. She knew that much. But that was the part of her that had spent hours down on the Engineering deck listening to Zaeed talk about sex and killing. She liked stories. It was that simple.

Thane was sitting near the window overlooking the drive core when she arrived. He went to stand as she approached, but her smile and tiny dismissive wave kept him in his chair. "I wanted to thank you for joining my squad," Shepard began, taking the seat in front of him. Pin straight posture, hands folded in her lap, slight, responsive smile. Things were going well so far. How she could become so chummy with Chambers after only a few weeks, and this man comes in with his leather and his voice and throws her right off? She wasn't going to let that happen.

"And I wanted to thank you for giving me the opportunity," the drell said quietly. "That was the main reason why I sought you out."

"The main reason?" Shepard asked, shifting a little in the chair.

Thane nodded. "I felt that I owed you some semblance of an explanation. When we first met, I told you that I was dying. You seemed curious, but you said nothing."

"I figured it was a sensitive subject," Hermia replied. She paused, lifting a hand into the air to keep him from continuing. "Wait, you caught that? I don't remember showing any signs…" The news had taken her by surprise, but she didn't gasp or take a step back or anything visibly noticeable. She figured he had a keen eye, but just how keen?

"I am observant," he stated plainly, though there was a hint of a smile unfurling in the corner of his mouth. He laced his fingers together on the desk, "My disease will not keep me from performing at my highest ability, I promise you. There is no need to worry."

Shepard gave a curt nod. "I don't doubt that you'll be a very beneficial part of my team."

For a while, they fell into silence. Silence aside from the steady hum of the drive core situated just behind them. Shepard wondered for a while if that was her cue to get up and leave, but something told her to stay, just like something told her to ask a question. "What is your disease exactly?"

"Ah, yes," he began, "It is called Kepral's Syndrome. My people originated on an arid desert world and adapted our bodies accordingly. When we were brought to the hanar homeworld of Kahje, we found that our lungs did not agree with the humid climate. The humidty affects our lungs' ability to absorb oxygen, and - eventually - they cannot."

Shepard's brow creased. She remembered how it was to not be able to breathe. She remembered it like it'd happened only hours before. Limbs flailing, trying desperately to cover the tears in her suit. "That sounds… horrible," she murmured. "Is there a cure?"

"Unfortunately no. The hanar have begun the search for the genetic answer, but the research has not been successful this early on."

There was something so calm about him as he spoke. So complacent and gracious. How someone could so easily describe what was slowly killing them, she had no idea. But he didn't just speak with words. Gestures punctuated sentences. His graceful hands slowly sliced the air, cradled it in his palms. She didn't even realize she was staring at him until he stopped talking and began staring back.

Hermia coughed into her fist, giving him a small apologetic smile. "It was very nice talking to you, Thane," she said, pulling herself up from her chair, but not leaving immediately. "Maybe next time we can talk more about you."

"Or perhaps about you."

"A-ha, I don't know about that." Shepard gave her head a shake. "Nothing too interesting here. I can tell you a lot about omni-tools, though. And the geth."

Thane smiled, "We will see, then, I suppose."

With that, Shepard left him to his business. The door slid open before she even had a chance to run a hand over the access pad. Her mind was racing with questions her innately curious side wanted to ask him. About his life, his sniper rifle, how he was coping with his illness. His religion. His tendency towards solitude.

"Shepard, the women's restroom is on the starboard side of the ship."

"What?" she asked, startled. Glancing around the room, her eyes widened. She wasn't in the elevator. Not unless they'd recently installed urinals and showers. "Oh!" Smacking her forehead with her palm, she retreated from the men's bathroom and turned the corner towards the elevator. Luckily no one saw her.

She was left to her red-faced shame alone in the elevator as it headed up towards her cabin.

* * *

  
**A/N:** Thanks for all the reviews! :D Also, I was wondering if I was the only one who did this, but - after talking to Thane, I was usually so giddy I mistook the men's bathroom for the elevator. I mean, it's right there, and they look the same on the outside!


	3. Chapter 3

Shepard could sense someone behind her. It was the worst feeling in the world - a shadow slowly coming up from behind and then stopping, unmoving, just… there, but not visible. She closed one of the many messages that were piling up in her private terminal and glanced to her right, only to see Kelly chatting with one of the many workers on the bridge. Arching a brow, she turned, only to find Miranda standing only a few feet away. And she didn't look happy.

"Is there something I can help you with, Miranda?"

The brunette shifted on her feet, hip jutting slightly as she rested a hand on it. "I got your message about helping with my sister," she said. Her voice was quiet, unsure. Shepard couldn't remember if she'd ever heard Miranda sound "unsure." "I don't know if I'm comfortable with you bringing Thane along on this mission."

Shepard gave a quiet "huh" before leaning against the terminal. Her arms folded neatly over her chest as she gave her second in command a once over. It was clear the woman meant what she said. "I have my reasons for taking him along. Has Thane given you any reason to doubt him?"

"He's an assassin, Shepard," Miranda whispered fiercely, brows knitted.

"You're working on a squad with an unstable biotic, a pureblood krogan, and a mercenary, and you're worried about an assassin?" Shepard shot back, nonplussed. "He has to acclimate himself to the team somehow. Sitting in Life Support won't help."

She watched as Miranda digested her words. She didn't know what was going on in that head of hers, but she hadn't alleviated any of her worries. "But this isn't just _some mission_, commander. This is a personal matter, one that means a lot to me."

"Miranda," Shepard interjected, taking a step forward and letting her hand rest on the woman's upper arm. "He's coming. I've already spoken to him about it. Why are you so worried?"

Hermia couldn't help but feel dejected as Miranda knocked her hand away with little more than a gentle push. Everyone seemed so set on not accepting any offers of friendship. Kelly was receptive, but she was also being paid to be nice. Joker and Chakwas were old friends. Garrus, too, still held most of the respect she'd garnered the last time they were on the same side. But Miranda… She wasn't going to have any of it. "If there's no changing your mind, Shepard..." She took a step back, then another. "I'll be in my office."

When Shepard turned back to her terminal, Kelly was just wrapping up her own discussion, though the premature ending was mostly due to her constantly looking over to the commander. She could tell that something was bothering her, not that she was particularly adept at hiding things.

"Is everything alright, commander?"

Hermia tore her eyes away from the terminal and looked to Kelly. "Yeah," she murmured. "Everything's okay." Rolling her shoulders back, she glanced around the CIC. Everyone was at their stations, working just as hard as they always were. She could see EDI's blue light flashing, indicating speech, and Joker's hands gesturing as he replied. At first, the Normandy SR-2 intimidated her. It was so different, so much bigger. Improved, they said. The SR-1 had been home. This Normandy felt like an imposter. At first.

"Keep an eye on things for me," she said finally. Something in her smile changed. It wasn't just a courtesy. It was genuine. She pushed herself away from the terminal, rolling back onto her heels before turning on them and making her way to the elevator. Kelly didn't even have to respond. Her quick nod was all Shepard needed to believe her.

While she waited for the doors to close, she glanced upwards, "EDI?"

The blue orb materialized to her right. "Yes, Shepard?"

"Tell Miranda and Thane to meet me in the hull." She shut her eyes and crossed her arms. She wasn't going to let Miranda's hesitation change her mind. Not after hearing the pleasant surprise in Thane's voice when she told him she wanted him to go with them. _I wasn't expecting you to extend an invitation to join you so soon. I would be honored._ "I should be there in ten."

"Of course, Shepard." The AI disappeared, leaving the elevator lit only by the thin ropes of light running along the ceiling. Ten minutes was all she needed to put on her armor and give her terminal another quick check before leaving. Kaidan still hadn't replied to her message. She did not have much to say to him after their meeting on Horizon and his apologetic message she'd received not long after. Her own apologies were short. Why did she even have to apologize?

I'm sorry I died, Alenko. I'm sorry the coma kept me from sending you a holo and a few words. But I didn't deserve that kind of treatment. No one does.

The inside of her bottom lip was bitten raw by the time she stepped out of the elevator, clad and equipped, ready to get on with whatever Miranda had to throw at her. The shuttle's doors were opened, and she could see Thane already seated, hands placed on his knees, eyes closed. Miranda, on the other hand, was standing not far away from the elevator, looking over her hand cannon. When she heard Shepard approaching, she glanced up.

Hermia knew she wasn't late, but there was still annoyance written all over Miranda's features. When she spoke up, Shepard stepped past her, only half-listening to what she had to say. "I still don't feel comfortable with this, commander," she said, thankfully out of Thane's earshot. "Why couldn't you bring Jacob? Or Grunt?"

"We need efficiency, not brute strength," Shepard stated plainly. "Finesse. Your sister's life is on the line here. Do you want a charging krogan tagging along?"

Miranda paused, "True, but what about Jacob?"

Shepard stopped in her tracks and turned to her. There was only so much of this she could take. She understood why Miranda was so on edge over what was going on, but this was ridiculous. When she spoke, her words were clipped. "Do you often cross the line between differing opinions and insubordination, Lawson?"

Miranda's mouth snapped shut. Her nostrils flared noticeably, but she wisely chose to bite her tongue. While Shepard was working for Cerberus, she was still the commanding officer. And she couldn't even run to the Illusive Man on this one. Shepard's mission was to fight the Collectors, not save Miranda's little sister from mercs. Anything beside the main mission was completely optional. Either she accepted how Hermia intended to do it, or she wouldn't get it done at all.

"No, Shepard. I do not."

"Then get in."

--

Miranda's worries proved less than useless when they were finally on the ground. Some small internal part of Shepard smiled every time she saw a merc crumple to the ground after a well-timed shot from Thane, leaving Miranda with nothing to do but wait for her shields to regenerate. His use of biotics was equally as impressive. Coupled with one of her own explosive plasma rounds, they maneuvered their way around crates and into oncoming groups of Eclipse with precision she lacked with Grunt and Jack.

They hung back, watching Miranda with two sets of steady eyes as she hugged cover. She was eager to get to Oriana before it was too late. Her own emotions were sending her into dangerous positions, and she hated it. She especially hated it knowing that Shepard was watching and, though she would deny it later, she was judging.

Still, she pushed forward. The voice of the Enyala grated in her ears. Concern for Niket as well as Oriana drove her faster and farther ahead than she would've liked, but she knew Shepard had her back. Despite their disagreements, Shepard needed her.

Popping up from behind cover, she emptied three pistol rounds into some faceless merc's torso. Her entire body hummed with each cynical thought that passed through her mind. If she wasn't fast enough, Niket would die. Oriana would be snatched up by her father and turned into what she was. He'd have his dynasty. Letting out a frustrated growl, she shoved a new heat sink into her hand cannon and jumped out of cover, setting off into a run. Shepard watched through the sights of her sniper rifle, her breath caught in her throat.

Miranda was completely out in the open, facing not one, but two remaining Eclipse. A single bullet impacted her shields, throwing her shoulder back, but it wasn't enough to divert her course.

She slid the few feet remaining until she hit the crate.

Her ears filled with the sound of kickback against armor, and she looked up only in time to see one of the mercs thrown backwards from the impact, a splatter of red coursing down the pile of crates not a yard behind him. The other jerked his head around, looking for the direction the bullet came from. The distraction was just enough to give Miranda the time needed to line up her own shot.

That was the last of them. They'd been slogging through Eclipse thugs for what felt like an eternity, and Miranda could finally see the elevator that would take them straight to that bitch Enyala.

She turned to see Shepard and Thane walking up to her. Shepard slid her rifle in on itself and replaced it with her own hand cannon, a process that was nearly seamless and completed in only a few movements.

"Nice shot, Shepard," Miranda said with a hint of a fierce grin. "It was close."

Hermia replied with a smile of her own. "That wasn't mine."

Her only response was a quirked eyebrow in Thane's directly. He didn't seem bothered by her chilly reaction. In fact, he seemed altogether neutral when it came to what was happening. He had none of Miranda's anger, none of Shepard's frustration. He didn't even hold any of Shepard's pride when he took down a target clean.

Before any of them had the time to say another word, Enyala's voice was heard over the speaker. Every time she said something, Miranda felt herself tense noticeably. She was the only thing standing in her way, the only roadblock that was stopping Oriana from keeping her normal life. "Niket has reached the terminal. He'll switch the family over to our transport."

Shepard's eyes went to Miranda. The woman's lips parted in shock, and she looked to Shepard before quickly turning away. "Niket?" she asked no one. "But… that can't be right." She hesitated, holstering her weapon. After all this time… Niket? No. It was impossible.

Both Shepard and Thane struggled to catch up with Miranda as she moved forward, her strides lengthened as worry turned into fear. The door slid down before her, and all three of them entered. "Maybe the captain knows we're listening in, and she's feeding misinformation about Niket making a switch." The disbelief in her voice only dispersed as her words solidified with a confidence that was not entirely sincere.

Miranda turned to Shepard as the commander selected their destination. The elevator surged as they began to move slowly upwards. Her expression was stolid, hardly revealing any emotion at all, but her eyes were filled with distress. They glittered as her jaw clenched. Again, she shook her head, hands running absently through her black locks. "Or maybe it means something else." Her brows seized, wrinkling the skin above the bridge of her nose. "Niket wouldn't do that."

Her words lingered for a moment, and she hardly believed them herself. After everything she'd seen in her life, trust wasn't something she gave willingly. And once she did, she knew she could be betrayed. At any turn anyone could sink a blade right between her shoulder blades. It was a simple fact of life. But this was Niket - a man she'd trusted with her life, her oldest friend.

"Damnit, why won't this thing go any faster!?" The elevator jumped as she landed a heavy fist against the access pad.

Shepard placed a hand on her shoulder, and this time Miranda didn't move away. She stayed there, fist planted in the center of the elevator's wall, her entire body rigid. "You know him, Miranda," Hermia offered. She couldn't do much, but she could attempt comfort. "If you don't think he'd betray you, then I'm sure there's another explanation."

"I don't know, damn it," Miranda murmured, finally letting her hand drop to her side. She didn't jerk away from the contact, but Shepard let go willingly as she turned around. Her jaw was set, and her eyes no longer held the same worry they had. The blue had all but turned to ice. "I guess we'll find out soon enough. And then I'll have a word with this Captain Enyala."

The rest of the elevator ride was ensconced in a tense silence. If she'd been in the same situation, Shepard would've been prowling around the elevator, hand on her gun, all too eager and paranoid to let her guard down. But not Miranda. Miranda stood very still, hands clasped in front of her, eyes steady on the doors.

Little did either of them know, her mind was so busy churning out possible excuses for Niket she couldn't function otherwise. It didn't help that none of them made any sense. All of these excuses clattered to the ground around her feet when the elevator reached its destination and revealed three figures.

Miranda was the first out of the elevator, closely followed by Shepard and Thane. What unfolded before their eyes wasn't at all what they expected. Enyala had a gun - a big gun, and her falling into an aggressive stance only led to having three firearms aimed directly at her. Shepard was so focused on the asari that she hardly heard what transpired between Miranda and her old friend.

_Sold me out._

_If I'd known - stolen a baby._

The asari's eyes narrowed at Hermia, every muscle in her body ready for whatever action lie ahead.

_I rescued her!_

_You were getting back at your father._

Shepard's steady gaze flashed to Niket, who shifted uncomfortably, clearly out of his depth. "If you're working for Miranda's father, that means he knows about Oriana. We need to find a new solution."

"Miranda's father has no information about Oriana." In the corner of her eye, Shepard saw Miranda hesitate, her hand cannon dipping in the air. So he hadn't gone all the way through with it… There was some shred of friendship left. "I knew you had spy programs in your father's systems, Miri," Niket continued, stepping forward, closer to her. "I kept it private. I'm the only one who knows."

Miranda's arm tightened, and the gun snapped into its original position. Niket stopped cold. After all they'd been through, after all the times she'd confided in him, he'd still go through with something like this. He knew how much Oriana meant to her, how passionately she wanted her little sister to have the life she couldn't. He had to die. She wouldn't let him ruin this. "Which means you're the only loose end. This isn't how I wanted it to end."

Before she was able to pull the trigger, Shepard grabbed onto her arm, pulling the gun back. "Miranda, wait. You don't want to do this."

Miranda tried to jerk her arm away from the commander, but Hermia's grip was strong. The woman's blue eyes were slowly melting, and she could see tears that she dare not shed. Instead, she silently pleaded with Shepard. _Let me do this. I have to._ "This has to end here, Shepard." Her voice was cold despite everything. "My father will keep trying to find Oriana."

"I'll tell him that you hid her," Niket interjected, hoping that his words would find some steady ground with her. "That I don't know where she is."

She took a slow breath, a stabilizing breath, and her eyes were once again on Niket, though her firearm hung at her side. Instead, she pointed at him, her teeth clenched with a tightly coiled anger. "I never want to see you again, Niket."

Not a moment passed as her old friend's name left her lips before a gunshot rang out, punctuated by the sound of gasping and the sight of the man falling forward, first onto his knees and then flat onto the ground. "Done." Captain Enyala's lips twisted in a pleased smile. "Now, if you don't mind - I have a shipment to deliver."

Miranda's entire body pulsed with dark energy, and the asari was floating in midair before Shepard even had time to react. "You'll die for that, bitch!" Thrusting a palm outward, a wave of energy pierced the air and Enyala was thrown back like a doll.

The entire dock burst into action. Shepard was taking fire before she was able to slide into cover. Over her shoulder, she saw Thane's biotics throw an Eclipse merc off of the side of the building. In the same cursory sweep, she caught Miranda vaulting over a crate and running in deep. "Thane," Hermia called out, hand to her ear. "Cover Miranda. I'll take care of the others."

His voice crackled over her earpiece. "As you wish."

Clutching her pistol, she watched as he moved from crate to crate, cover to cover, slowly picking his way through the crowded station towards Miranda. To her right, she saw movement. To her left, she saw movement. "Shit," she muttered to herself as she fell back as far as she could, her back pressed against a tall container. Flanked like an idiot.

Her omni-tool glowed as she dialed up a plasma round. With her shields completely regenerated, she could take them both. She knew it. She'd done it before when she'd gotten herself into this tight a spot. Lunging out of cover, her fingers clenched around her omni-tool, launching the explosive round as she unloaded most of a heat sink into the armored merc in front of her. She nearly stumbled forward as the other got off a few rounds into her back, her kinetic shields almost completely depleted.

But when she whipped around to finish him off, she found him slumped downward, armor pierced, resting awkwardly on the ground. Shepard whipped around to see Thane lifting his rifle and reloading it.

"Thank you," she whispered. Her voice was nearly lost in the gunfire, but he heard it well enough to give her a slight bow of his head in response before turning and trailing behind Miranda.

Shepard could've killed him. The merc. She knew she could have. But at what cost? A gunshot to the shoulder? The neck? Her shields were hardly hanging on by the time she turned around. If he hadn't been paying attention to her… Hermia shook her head before popping the heat sink and replacing it. She'd have time enough to think this all over when Captain Enyala was dead.

With all of her men dead and three highly trained killers on her tail, the asari did not last long. Neither did Miranda's fleeting feeling of success at seeing the bitch eat pavement. They had to get to Oriana. They had to see if she was okay. Just in case.

Luckily, Miranda's little sister _was_ okay. All three of them watched as she talked to her "parents," smiling and laughing and blissfully unaware of everything they'd gone through to keep her safe. Oriana didn't know Niket was dead. She didn't even know he'd been alive. Captain Enyala was just a name that meant nothing to the teenager. Hell, if she knew Shepard, it was because of her name being on the news so often lately.

"Come on," Miranda said softly, "We should go."

Shepard arched a brow. "Don't you even want to say hello?"

She could see Miranda hesitate. "It's not about what I want," she murmured. Slowly, her words gained strength, as if she was reciting a speech she'd memorized long ago. "It's about what's right for her. The less she knows about me, the better." Looking away from Shepard, she cast her gaze upon Oriana and the woman and man she now called mom and dad. It hurt, but she wasn't going to admit that. She'd given Oriana everything she never had the chance to experience, and it was for the better. "She's got a family. A life. I'll just complicate that for her."

"She doesn't need any details," Shepard declared, reaching out to give her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "But would it really be so bad for her to know she has a sister who loves her?"

Miranda's brows pinched as she tried to blink back any of the emotions that bubbled up inside of her. "I guess not." Her voice mingled with a quiet chuckle, a surprising sound that made Shepard smile. Miranda did, too, turning to look at Shepard, unsure of how she should approach Oriana and her family. She'd never seen Miranda like this. She always knew how events would unfold. She knew what she wanted, how everyone would react to her desires; when she should talk, when she should shut up; who she was.

"Go on. We'll wait here."

With that, Miranda hitched up her shoulders and sighed, giving Shepard another small smile before breaking off from the group.

Hermia glanced towards Thane as he took a step up beside her, hands clasped behind his back. "I am glad you persuaded her to speak to her sister," he said, though his eyes were on Miranda as she strode up to Oriana and her family.

"I couldn't let her miss this kind of opportunity," she replied, her own voice surprisingly quiet. Looking away from him, she, too, focused on the sisters. "Especially not considering what's going to be happening in the next few weeks. Oriana deserves to know her sister. Know there's someone out there looking out for her."

"Hmm, yes. I see your point."

Hermia's own wishes were left unspoken. She often imagined what life would've been like if she had a family other than her fellow soldiers and friends. A sister, maybe, or a protective older brother. How would they feel about her death? About her working with Cerberus? The mission? She knew her parents would be up in arms over it, trying their hardest to get her to settle down and fix omni-tools instead of wielding them between bursts of gunfire. Maybe she would've never even joined the Alliance.

Words began to form on her lips without the slightest provocation, and a string of questions hung in front of them before she could silence herself. "What of your family, Thane? Anyone looking out for you? You looking out for anyone else?"

While he did not seem surprised by the question, he took a long moment to answer her. She watched with steady eyes as he contemplated his response - his slow breathing, the twitch of his eyebrow ridges.

"Not anymore." His words, though solid and final, were swathed in a quiet emotion, one she could not place. Remorse, guilt, sadness - she couldn't tell.  


* * *

  
**A/N:** La la la, I'm sorry about this one being mostly about Miranda, buuuut... it happened on accident, I swear.

Anyway, I wanted to thank you all for your incredibly encouraging review. I also wanted to assure you that I'm trying my best to keep Thane as close to canon as I possibly can, so I hope you guys don't worry _too_ much about how I'm handling the relationship. I'll be taking some liberties, but I love the character and I want to do him justice! So yes. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'm so happy you're all enjoying this so far.


	4. Chapter 4

In the vacuum of space, days seemed to have no set beginning or end. When they were planetside, there was some clock to keep time - whether it was an actual clock or the rising and setting sun. Things were different on the ship. You slept when you were tired, woke a few hours later, and repeated the process depending on your schedule. This often led to missing the opportunity to speak to someone.

Shepard wasn't the sort of person to suffer with insomnia. She slept soundly no matter what was going on in her day to day life. Her dreams were never violent or horrifying as some would expect. Instead, they were a sort of solace for the soldier. Tonight, however, sleep wasn't coming. After barely touching it with the tips of her fingers only to have it retreat more than once, she gathered herself out of bed, slipped into her usual outfit, and wandered down to the crew's quarters.

She lingered at the elevator when she finally reached the floor, wondering to herself if Thane was awake. Figuring it was better to leave him alone, Hermia rubbed sleepily at her eyes and headed for the mess.

"Good afternoon, commander," Gardner greeted with his usual gravelly charm.

"Is it the afternoon? Doesn't feel like the afternoon to me," she replied, a sleepy half-smile spreading across her lips.

Just before she set herself down heavily onto one of the chairs, she glanced around the table. Her smile widened when she saw Kelly looking up from the data pad in her lap. The redhead was probably doing work. Again. She never rested. Any of her free time was all but absorbed by her job. "No sleep?"

Shepard chuckled, sitting down beside Kelly and putting her head in her hands. "About five minutes worth," she groaned.

Over the past few days - or, at least, what Shepard assumed were days - they'd gathered so much, done so much. After helping Miranda's sister, Shepard and her squad stayed on Illium just long enough for her to meet with Liara T'soni and Samara. That was followed by a trip to Haestrom, where she met Tali and convinced her to join the mission. Each day, there was something new. Some new obstacle, some new target. There was no stopping, no time to breathe.

"Have you spoken to Thane lately?" she heard Kelly ask as she conveniently ducked her eyes behind the data pad. Figures she'd try to ignore the fact that she'd just dropped the conversational equivalent of an atomic bomb right there onto the table.

Someone at the other table shifted a little in their chair, leaning the slightest bit closer to their conversation. Ignoring this, Hermia glanced up from the spot on the table she'd been staring at since she sat down. "Huh? No. No, I haven't." She paused, giving Kelly a curious look. "Why? Did he tell you that he wanted to talk to me?"

The yeoman gave a little shrug. "I was just wondering." She leaned forward, setting the data pad onto the table. Only then did Shepard realize exactly what she was doing. She was reading over the dossiers. "I saw him heading into Life Support when I came down to get something to drink. He's _really_ courteous. Most men don't make it a point to bow their heads at women."

Shepard gave a little laugh. "That's true. I don't think I've ever met someone so polite in my entire life." Leaning back against her chair, she tried her best to get comfortable, hands laced together in her lap. She was so used to dealing with your average run-of-the-mill soldier that she found herself at a loss when it came to the assassin. "Which is odd… considering."

"I should point out that I've only been down here for ten minutes," Chambers said with a hint of a grin. "And that Thane's _probably_ still sitting in Life Support. You should go talk to him."

Hermia arched a brow at her, "Is this a recommendation or an order?"

Kelly laughed - a light, airy sound that brought another smile to Shepard's face despite her confusion. "Well, I can't order you to do anything. I can recommend, but this isn't really a recommendation. A request, maybe?"

"Hm, a request." Shepard shifted on her chair, pulling herself up closer to the table as she contemplated standing. "I can handle requests."

The two women shared a smile as Shepard stood up and slid her chair in at the table. Kelly watched as the commander made her way around the corner. This was a dangerous mission, and she knew everyone was on edge. She wasn't even out there and she was on edge. Glancing down at her data pad, she pulled it into her lap and slid her index along the bar at the bottom. Photos flashed as she switched between dossiers. Samara, Tali, Thane. Shepard.

After all she'd seen Shepard go through since her arrival on the SR-2, it was nothing compared to what the text listed right in front of her. Trouble and grief seemed to follow Hermia around like a lost puppy, always nipping at her heels when she slowed down for too long. From what she knew of her, she could tell that none of her past deeply effected her personality. She wasn't solemn or avoidant. She had bouts of shyness, but that was only on the bad days. At her worst, she couldn't keep her head on straight. At her best, she was the brightest soldier ever seen by the Systems Alliance.

The fact that she was the first human Spectre, she'd saved the Citadel from destruction, and held off enemy forces during the Blitz baffled most people. They expected someone brawny and tough, but all they got was a woman unimpressive in stature and gentle in demeanor. Of course, that was only the first impression.

Shepard was surprised to see that Thane wasn't sitting as his table when the door to Life Support slid open. He was standing in front of the illuminated shelves, black eyes staring unfocused at the weapons there. He glanced toward the entrance when he heard her enter, but he didn't seem bothered by her intrusion. If anything, he seemed to relax slightly.

"I'm sorry for just barging in like this," Hermia apologized, fingers absently twisting around her rolled up sleeve. She hated just walking up to someone just to have a normal conversation. Why not wait until she was approached? She was the commander. People went to her with problems. Usually. "I was just hoping that we could talk. Kelly said she saw you earlier."

"Yes," he said quietly, turning and proffering an arm towards one of the chairs. "I would like to talk. There is something that I must ask of you."

Shepard moved towards the chair, sliding down onto it. She couldn't help but feel worried. Thane didn't seem like the sort of man who would willingly ask for another's help, especially not someone he considered a stranger. "Anything for a part of my crew," she said, her forehead creasing in concern.

Thane sat down in front of her, lacing his fingers together on the table. "Not long ago, I told you that I had no one looking out for me, no one I am looking out for." Shepard nodded, remembering the short-lived conversation quite clearly. He pulled his shoulders up, straightening his posture. "I was not entirely truthful with you, Shepard."

When she did not respond, he continued, "I have recently received word of my son. He… intends to follow in my footsteps."

What was she supposed to say to that? Asking him if he had a son seemed redundant, as did asking him about the boy's intentions. Every question that passed along the tip of her tongue unspoken seemed either rude or meaningless. If he wanted to hand out details about his personal life, he should be able to without being put upon with a dozen questions. Instead, she leaned back in the chair and mulled over her options.

It was an unanticipated twist in his already complex story - one she knew only a hairs breadth of detail. He was dying, yet he seemed at peace with this. Accepting. His son wanted to be an assassin, to follow in his father's footsteps, yet Thane wanted otherwise for his blood. That much was already crystal clear. It was confusing. And unexpected.

Thane sat before her quietly; patient and calm despite everything that was turning over and over in his head. She did not watch him, but he watched her, waiting for an answer or a question or anything.

"You want to stop him," she said finally. "And you want me to help."

"Yes." Thane's head dipped forward, his eyes shut for only a moment as he collected his thoughts. "I am not used to asking for help. This was my doing, and I should be the one to set this right… But I cannot without your assistance."

Shepard paused for a moment, teeth snagged on the inside of her bottom lip. After all she'd done for the other members of her crew, after reuniting Jacob with his father, helping Jack on Pragia, Mordin and Grunt on Tuchanka, it would be unheard of for her to deny Thane his request, even before she brought his illness into perspective. The mission was important, but she could tell that this meant a great deal to him.

Taking a deep breath, she released it slowly, "Where do I tell Joker to dock?"

The man before her glanced up from his hands, and an emotion something like surprise colored his usually placid features. It was nothing more than a flash, replaced soon after by his usual serenity. "The Citadel," he said slowly. "Kolyat was last seen on the Citadel."

Hermia nodded before pushing herself up into a standing position. They could be there in no more than a few hours, just enough time for her to try to get some more rest. She was about to turn towards the door to make her way up to the CIC when she felt a hand on her arm. The touch was familiar. Strong, steady. Sure. Her eyes fell downwards to see Thane looking up at her, his eyebrow ridges flexing as quiet words formed on his lips. "Thank you, Shepard."

"There's no need to thank me," she replied with a small smile despite the hitch of breath in her throat.

He slowly withdrew his hand, though she could still feel his palm along the skin of her forearm. His previously concerned expression was replaced with a smile of his own - a delicate curl in the corner of his mouth. "There is always a reason for thanks."

* * *

  
**A/N:** Look! Thane speaks in this one! Haha. It looks like I'm always apologizing to you guys, but I'm sorry this one is so short. I felt like it would be best to keep most of it ambiguous. The next chapter is going to be another behemoth, I hope. You guys have me all worried that I'm going to mess him up! Hah. On a slightly related note - all he did was touch her - why do I still feel like it's going too fast? Argh!


	5. Chapter 5

Even just walking in the Wards felt different now. So much changed in two years. She'd watched the beginning of the rebuild with curiosity, but her study was cut short and now it felt like she was on an entirely different station. The general feeling of danger was still there, a quiet pulsing that emanated from each tense figure.

Shepard took a deep breath, steadying herself as a barrage of vibrant lights hit her eyes. She hadn't seen much of the Wards in her first trip to the Citadel. Most of her time was spent in the markets and at Chora's Den as well as C-Sec. The station was massive. There was a chance the Zakera Ward wasn't even touched during the attack on the Citadel. While curious, she didn't have time to ask around.

Captain Bailey was sitting at his desk, glancing towards the door leading in from the docking bay every once in a while as he shifted through the information on his computer. He seemed more than a little tense, his wide shoulders uncharacteristically concave as he peered at the screen. Some small part of him seemed to relax when he saw the door slide open and Shepard stride through.

He didn't have enough time to give the Spectre a substantial greeting, only muttering a, "Yes?" as she stepped up to his desk. Always on a mission.

"I need your help, Bailey. My associate's trying to find his son," she began. Bailey glanced toward the drell at her side. The leather clad man stepped forwards, hands clasped behind his back and features very nearly blank. "We heard a local criminal may have hired him."

"Should be easy," the Captain shrugged, turning back to his terminal. "We don't see many drell here."

Shepard looked down at him with a steady gray gaze. She knew C-Sec. They'd find the boy, no matter how easy it was. Especially if she was the one asking. Having such a recognizable face had its advantages. Within a few swift strokes, the normally blue screen flashed orange. "Gotcha," he murmured to himself, leaning forward in his chair. "One of my men reported a drell recently. And he was talking to Mouse. Interesting."

To her immediate right, Thane tensed slightly. "Mouse?"

"A petty criminal," Bailey continued, glancing up from his terminal to give the drell a once over before turning right back. "Not the guy who hired your boy, but a messenger. Former duct rat, runs errands for anyone who'll pay him."

Shepard turned to Thane, who looked back. Worry was scrawled over her brow like shakily written words. She couldn't help it. Empathy was easy to come about on a wide scale, but impossible to ignore on a small one. "We should go." Thane merely nodded.

"Head to Dark Star," Bailey mentioned, voice raised so she'd hear him even after she'd already turned around. "He's usually there, working out of a public comm terminal." His eyes went to Thane, who lingered behind, his focus split between what was happening and what lie around the corner. "Sounds like your boy's running with the wrong crowd."

Hermia caught a small change in Thane's expression. His resolve almost solidified, and his motivations returned, pulling his eyebrow ridges downward as he nodded. "Yes," he said slowly. "I agree."

Bailey turned his attention to Shepard. She'd stopped in her tracks after hearing the Captain's instructions and was now standing near the door, Jack idling at her side. "I'll be here if Mouse doesn't help," he offered. "But there's a strong chance he knows who hired the boy."

She barely heard Thane's quiet, "Thank you," as she moved out into the crowd. It would've taken hours to soak up every detail of the frantic Wards. Each smell, sound, sight was followed either by a story or a stranger, some of them pleasant, some of them not. It was impossible to ignore the memories of what had gone on the last time she was on the Citadel. The firefight in Chora's Den, helping Chellick get those weapons mods, running into Conrad Verner not once or twice, but three times…

"You didn't tell him that Kolyat plans to assassinate someone," she heard from behind her. Turning around, she found herself face to face with Thane. She couldn't read his expression. Too many emotions were too expertly masked behind his sable eyes.

"If he knew, he'd try to stop it from happening," she replied, "One of them could end up dead. I don't want that."

Thane took a slow breath before he nodded. "Yes, of course." He lifted his eyes to the woman standing directly in front of him. He hadn't even thought of that. The way her mind worked was intriguing. She was quick and logical. These were two things that comprised a complete juxtaposition of the opinion that followed Shepard everywhere she went. Everyone expected gunfire and explosions, a ruthless attitude, a complete lack of empathy. "Thank you, Shepard."

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she began the trek up the stairs towards the Dark Star. She was followed by Thane and Jack, and they were all on edge. No one ever knew what kind of trouble they could get into in the Wards. The possibility of danger laced the thickly scented air all around them.

When she mounted the stairs, she felt a soft touch on her shoulder. Glancing over it, she saw Thane's eyes focused on a man across the way. "That is Mouse," he said, voice quiet. He was standing near a terminal, data pad in hand, arms moving as he gestured to someone who couldn't even see him.

Shepard moved over to the man, confidence in her step despite the unsure feeling that settled in her gut. A single misstep was all it would take to mess this up. She knew how much this meant to Thane. Then again, she was used to the stress that came with trying to help someone.

"You Mouse?"

"What do you want?" he asked as he turned around. A shocked gasp later, the man called Mouse was standing there, looking as if he'd seen a ghost. "Oh, shit! Krios? I thought you retired." When Thane shook his head, Mouse turned to the original speaker and his cheeks blanched of color even farther. "Commander Shepard?! I thought you were dead!"

_Well, this is certainly one way to ruin someone's day_, Hermia thought to herself, shifting on her feet.

"What do you want with me?"

The poor guy sounded so helpless and confused. Thane stepped forward, a comforting hand going to Mouse's shoulder. The man shrunk away from it at first. "Be still, Mouse," he murmured, warmth filling his voice. "You can change your pants in a moment."

Shepard bit back an amused smile, but Jack didn't bother. The biotic gave a little snort of derisive laughter at Mouse's expense.

"Look, we just want information," Shepard admitted. She felt bad for him. Two ghosts in one day must be some kind of record. Then again, she was getting used to that reaction when she walked into crowded rooms.

"You gave another drell instructions for an assassination," Thane continued. He dipped his head closer to Mouse's as if in an underlying threat. His voice wasn't nearly as warm as it had been. Mouse seemed to notice this and shrink farther away. They clearly weren't strangers. Strangers couldn't tell such a subtle warning. "Who is the target?"

Mouse's mouth opened and closed several times before his reply came flooding out. "I-I don't know! I didn't ask. 'Cause… 'cause the people I work for? They can make me disappear." He took a deep breath when Thane released him and took a step back. Shepard's eyes were unmoving as they watched Mouse's expression and how fluidly it changed from fear to self-disappointment. He also seemed to have adopted a small nervous twitch. "I'd like to help you, Krios. You've always done right by us. But… but I ain't gonna die for you."

When Thane did not respond, Shepard stepped forward. "Look," she began, "You know Thane." Glancing towards the drell, she gave him a look that read, 'I'll handle this.' He nodded. "If this wasn't important, he wouldn't ask." She could see Mouse hesitating, thoughts running through his head like they were being chased by rabid varren. Stepping forward, she rested a hand on Mouse's shoulder, just as Thane had. Her eyes sought out Mouse's entreatingly. "Do it for him."

"I want to," Mouse squirmed, "He was always nice to us." He wrung out his hands over and over, clearly put upon by paranoia. She knew how it was to deal with dangerous people. Even she got her stomach all twisted up when she knew she was heading into something dangerous. Mouse looked to Thane, all but gnawing on his bottom lip. "These people ain't nice, Krios. They ain't nice at all."

"Nobody's going to know you talked to us," Shepard offered. Part of her felt like she was grasping at straws and she'd lose him at any second, but another, much smaller, part knew she was close to getting him on their side. She wasn't expecting backup, however.

"Mouse, I swear you will not be named."

The young man yielded. Finally. "Alright, alright."

Shepard glanced at Thane only to see him staring right back. Her eyes lingered as she silently thanked him. She was so lucky he was there. If he hadn't been, there was a good chance she would've lost Mouse's interest and trust. Thane felt similarly thankful. If she hadn't been there, none of this would've been possible. None of it. Why a woman tasked with saving the galaxy had even bothered with helping him, he had no idea.

At first, he figured she agreed only to keep him content. Her acceptance could've easily been taken as little more than that. But the minute they set down on the Citadel, he'd slowly begun to accept the fact that it was something more than that. She was concerned. Invested. This was not the woman he'd equated with heavy-handed diplomacy.

But now was not the time for such unfocused thoughts. He turned towards Mouse to see that he was struggling to speak. He was still hesitant.

"He came with that holo you took of me," Mouse murmured, "Said he needed a job." He turned away, and Shepard dropped her hand to her side. Again, he began wringing out his hands, eyes searching the wall for some sort of prompt, some written idea of what he should say. "I ran through your old contacts to see who might give him a shot." Mouse continued pacing. Something told her he was always a nervous individual. It wasn't her fault, nor was it Thane's. "The guy who offered was Elias Kelham."

"Thank you, Mouse."

Mouse nodded to Shepard and then to Thane before hurrying off, eager to be elsewhere and as soon as humanly possible. No one spoke for a long moment. Instead, they let themselves mull over what just happened. Now they had a name, which led to a direct heading. Shepard didn't know how many people she'd have to kill or question in order to get Thane to his son, but number hardly mattered anymore. The answer was always "more than you should."

"That couldn't have been easy," Shepard said. She was wary about making eye contact with Thane, but she found it impossible not to. She couldn't imagine what was going through his mind right now. His son was becoming the thing he'd been atoning for. She didn't know if he was afraid or regretful, if he blamed all of this on himself or felt he'd done the right thing. She hadn't spoken to him about it, but now she realized that she wished she had.

Thane's face drifted downwards, his eyes moving away from hers. She'd seen enough to notice the distinct sadness that lie in them. "Mouse knew more about my life than Kolyat ever did." He paused, silence lingering. His eyebrow ridges contracted inward, "I was the only thing he had back then. But I left him, as I left Kolyat."

Shepard felt a spark in her palm as her fingers flexed. The desire to rest her hand on his shoulder was unconscious, but she quelled it before her body could move on its own. She bit down on the soft inside of her bottom lip. What could she say? What could she do? Comforting others was a skill she lacked. She felt the pang of empathetic sadness, the burn of someone else's anger, the warmth of love, but she could never find the words or the actions to make it clear that she understood.

Of all the phrases that nearly passed her tongue, she only let one through. "Don't blame yourself."

Thane looked up at her. Any of the sadness that once filled the darkness was gone. It was replaced by an opaque mask. Even his voice was stronger. "If I don't, who will? We must carry the weight of our decisions, Shepard." She opened her mouth to speak, but said nothing. He was right, of course. Nothing that passed his lips was anything less than the truth. His every word was inspired. Still, it bothered her that he had to vocalize something she should have accepted a long time ago. "You, of all people, know this."

"Yes," she replied. "I do know that. I was just trying to say…" She trailed off, annoyed at her own inability to put _anything _into words. A single heavy sigh later, she gave it another try. "I was just trying to show you that I'm here. In case you want to talk about it."

Thane nodded. "I would like that, but now is not the time nor the place." He glanced toward Jack who stood not far off, arms crossed. She rolled her eyes at him, uninterested in what he had to say. "Later," he said, turning from Jack to Shepard. He seemed less tense. His expression was softer. That in itself was no small feat considering the circumstance. "Later, I would like to talk with you."

When the three of them reached C-Sec, Captain Bailey was still sitting behind his terminal, working quietly and giving the occasional order to someone standing nearby. He caught sight of Shepard making her way up to his desk and straightened his posture. No doubt Shepard got what she was looking for. Whether what she was looking for was a name or a direct lead to her associate's son, it took a strong man to say no to the first human Spectre, and Mouse wasn't a strong man.

"You talk to Mouse?" he asked as she stepped directly in front of his desk. "Did you get the name of the guy he's working with?"

"Elias Kelham."

Captain Bailey tongued the surname against his cheek before spitting out a curse. "Ah, look, this is awkward. Kelham and I…" he paused, shifting uncomfortably on his chair. Why did these things always happen to him? Any time he caught a break, something happened and he got his ass too close to the fire because of it. "We have an agreement." At Shepard's arched brow, he elaborated. "He doesn't cause too much trouble, and 'buys tickets to the Charity Ball' from me. And, in turn, I ignore him."

Shepard took a step back, arms crossing over her chest. "He's paying you off," she said slowly. Her mouth thinned into an unimpressed line. "You were eager to help us before. What about now? Is it too 'inconvenient?'"

"I said I'd help," Bailey was quick to respond. He was offended Shepard would think he would be so easily swayed. The relationship between him and Kelham was a beneficial one, but it didn't mean so much to him that he'd rescind his offer of assistance. "It's just," he took a deep breath and released it in a sigh, "There'll be repercussions if I don't handle it right. He and I give each other space. It keeps the peace."

Standing from his seat, he gave Shepard a look that told her that he was sincere. He wasn't some double agent. He was just a man who wanted to do his job as best he could. "I'll get some people to bring him in," he said, hands planted firmly on his desk. "We'll set him up in a private room. You can interrogate him yourself." He took another long breath. This made him extremely uncomfortable. "I'll stay out of sight. If I'm lucky, Kelham will believe I had nothing to do with it."

"Bring him in," Shepard said. She looked to Thane, who was watching Bailey for any sign of change. "We might not have much time."

"I'll make it happen. Wait here."

Not fifteen minutes later, after standing around at the C-Sec office and not saying much of anything, Shepard and Thane watched as a turian and a young human female brought in the man they were looking for. Kelham looked defeated already, dragging his feet as he moved silently past them.

After he was squared away in the interrogation room, Shepard turned to one of the nearby officers. "We've got Kelham. Tell Bailey we're ready." The man snapped off a salute before disappearing into a nearby room. Thane moved up to stand beside her. His hands were clasped behind his back, his shoulders squared. When her eyes met his, he tilted his head in a slight bow. He was ready. She couldn't be more eager to get this over with. She hated interrogations.

Hermia perked up when she saw Bailey approaching. He seemed tired. Or, at least, more put upon than he had been when Shepard made her way into the C-Sec office earlier that afternoon. "He'll expect me to get him out of this."

"Not today, I think," Thane replied.

Everyone's attention was diverted when a well-dressed civilian made his way up and into the open air office. The turian who'd dragged Kelham in intercepted the man. He didn't seem too pleased with his stride being interrupted. "Captain? His lawyer's here." Bailey muttered a curse as the officer continued, "Bet Elias has his VI set to page him if C-Sec gets within ten meters."

The Captain turned to Shepard, "I'll stall him. Get in there. And work fast." With that, he turned and left them, making a b-line for the lawyer.

Thane took a step forward to bridge the gap between him and the commander. "We should question him together. Keep the pressure on," he said, his voice hushed but loud enough for Shepard and only Shepard to hear. "Thoughts on how we should approach it?"

"You talk to him," she replied, "Appeal to his self-interest. I'll put the screws on him if he needs it."

Their closeness only allowed her to focus on the twist of a smile at the corner of his mouth. Her response had taken him more than a little unaware. After all her soft negotiations with Mouse and her gentleness, she'd still get the job done. No matter what that entailed.

Now this was the woman he expected when it came to her notorious name.

"Very well."

* * *

**A/N:** No apologies this time! :) I just wanted to thank everyone for the reviews. It means so much to me, and I'm SO glad you're enjoying the story. I honestly did not expect this at all. 3 Love for all of you!


	6. Chapter 6

Elias Kelham wasn't going to play ball.

That much was obvious as Shepard took her first step into the interrogation room only to be met with a pointed, "Who the hell are you two?" There was something in the way his eyes wrinkled as he narrowed them that spoke volumes above his voice. The snarl on his mouth twitched as she moved into the room, but didn't answer him.

Instead, she gave Thane a knowing look and tucked her hands behind her back. She watched as he did the same, and they slowly began to circle around the bound man. Thane lingered near Kelham's feet, while Shepard came to a halt just behind him.

"You hired an assassin," she said finally, "We need to know who you wanted killed." Kelham tensed. If they were waiting to make an arrest for his putting out a hit, that would've been all they needed to see that he was guilty. He knew that very well, which led to an almost silent curse falling from his pursed lips. "You tell us, you can go."

When Kelham next spoke, the tension was gone. His words were smooth, strong in comparison to how screwed over he suddenly felt. "I want to see my advocate."

Shepard's eyes were on Thane as he stepped forward. The bright overhead light shone on his leathers and created shadows on every contour on his face. Had she been in Kelham's place, she would have been more wary about him than the woman in full armor. But his voice was calm and complacent, almost cordial. "Your advocate hasn't arrived. We're trying to find him."

Kelham leaned forward in the slightly reclined chair. He was a daring man. "I'm not saying a damn word until he's here." His eyes fell to the cuff holding his hands in place. No amount of force could get him out of there. He'd already tried that approach. "You two are in way over your heads. Bailey won't let you touch me."

So he really wasn't going to talk.

Thane could see Shepard's fist clench over Kelham's shoulder, but all it took was a look from him for her fingers to relax. No screws. Not yet.

"Bailey doesn't know you're here," Shepard replied, leaning down closer to Kelham's ear, hand poised threateningly on his shoulder. He went to move away, but found that it was impossible. "But he will." She paused, giving him just enough time to let his imagination take off in every direction. She could hear him draw a shaky breath. "After we're done."

Her gaze went to Thane. A slight nod was all the indication the drell needed. "This is off the record," he continued where she left off. His voice was so warm, so comforting. She hadn't expected him to play the part of the good cop so well. "No criminal charges will be brought against you."

Kelham gave a hearty scoff. "What are you, frog boy? Her little sidekick?"

While Thane hardly twitched, Shepard's fist curled in on itself for the second time. She was used to humans spouting such remarks, but she wasn't about to sit there and take it from a man strapped to a table. "What, kid -- you gonna bore me into confessing?" He spat at her, but it didn't even reach her feet. "You ain't shit. Come on, hit me -"

So she did. Right square in the jaw. Kelham grunted in pain, hands jerking around in the cuffs as he tried to bring them up to his face. It was satisfying. Even more satisfying was the slight twitch of a smile on Thane's lips, either pleased by the punch or the reason for it. Any satisfaction was gone in an instant, when Kelham found his voice again. "Do you know what I'll do to you when I get out of here?"

"Keep it up, tough guy," Shepard growled, stepping into Kelham's line of sight. "You'll leave in a bag."

"Go to hell."

Shepard took a stabilizing breath. She wasn't going to hit him again. She wasn't. She clasped her hands behind her back, fingers laced, and she swore to herself that she wouldn't hit him again. He was just being a bastard. It was probably the norm for him. "Think _very_ carefully, Elias. I want to catch the assassin. Not you. Why stick your neck out for him?"

"You want me to confess to putting a hit out on someone?" he asked. He couldn't help but give a small, noncommittal laugh despite the pain that was spreading up from his cheek. "You think I'm stupid?"

"I get the name, I walk out," she offered. "You never see me again."

But Kelham wasn't going to bite. "I got no reason to believe you."

Shepard's eyes went to Thane in a silent bid for him to say something. She was already tired of trying to get information out of this man. He was obviously stubborn, a trait found in most criminals, especially the higher ups. Another common trait was the inability to share anything. Ever. She'd dealt with criminals before, but she was used to doing it with the barrel of a gun.

Catching her cue, Thane tilted his head slightly to the side, eyes flashing in the overhead light. "You don't have a reason to disbelieve, either."

At that, he nodded to Shepard, an indication that he had something to say. He moved close behind her, fingers trailing unconsciously along her arm to guide her in the direction he wished. When they were standing apart from Kelham, he lifted a hand to his mouth, lowering his voice to a whisper. "We're running out of time. Bailey can't stall his advocate for long."

"Are we done here? Because I've got people to see."

Kelham's interjection tore Shepard's attention away from Thane. She was tired of this. This interrogation was going nowhere. Whirling around, Shepard pressed her forearm down heavily against his throat. "I'm done being patient," she growled, applying even more pressure to Kelham's neck. "Give me a name, or I'll cut your balls off and sell them to a krogan!"

"Joram!" Kelham nearly screamed. "Joram Talid! Turian in the 800 blocks!" The man turned his eyes away, features distorted in both fear and pain.

Shepard withdrew her arm. "Now was that so hard?" she muttered, nodding towards Thane and then towards the door. Kelham didn't say a word. He was too busy dealing with his shame. _Say something to reassure him, Shepard. You aren't the bad guy._ "You'll be released sometime within the next few hours."

The door that led to the C-Sec office slid open and the two left silently. Kelham's advocate half-ran into the room, but neither of them bothered to say anything to the man. As they moved down the hallway towards Bailey's desk, she felt Thane move up closer beside her. "Your interrogation methods were… interesting."

"I can't say I've done it before," she chuckled. Her cheeked reddened in embarrassment. Things hadn't gone as according to plan as she'd hoped. She almost lost him and she knew it.

"A krogan, hm?"

He was teasing her. Hermia chuckled again. "If you want something from a man, just threaten his testicles," she replied blithely, shooting a toothy, almost innocent smile at him. For the first time since she'd met him, he laughed. It was a different sound than she was used to, but what had she expected? But it wasn't bad different. It was good different.

Bailey was standing right outside of the door, and he waved Shepard down as she walked up. He didn't seem to happy, but with all that happened in such a short time, she wouldn't have been too pleased either. "What's the story?" he asked, "Why did Kelham hire the boy?"

"Assassination." Shepard watched as a flicker of surprise ran over Bailey's craggy features. It as gone before she knew it. "A turian named Joram Talid. You know him?"

"Joram?" Bailey seemed even more surprised by the name than the act. "Yeah, I know him. You might've seen his posters around. He's promising an end to organized crime in the wards." Ah. So that's why Kelham wanted to hurry this turian along to his sticky end. Anyone who threatened crime often faced the heavy fist of the criminals. "Thing is - his message is all mixed up in race politics. He's anti-human."

After all that had happened, not only between humans and turians, but humans and every Citadel race, she wasn't surprised. Not in the slightest. She could hear Kelham's own slur towards Thane in the back of her head. Racism was a constant factor in every species' history. Krogans had clan wars. Turians spouted hate towards their own clanless. A long time ago, even humans were quick to discount others due to the color of their skin.

This wasn't her fight. One man's anti-human nonsense wasn't going to stop her from getting to Kolyat before he pulled the trigger. "We need to stop this assassination," she told Bailey, "Can you get us to the 800 blocks?"

Bailey turned to a woman standing nearby. "Sergeant! Get a patrol car. These two need to get to the 800 blocks."

"Yes, sir!"

--

Talid was being trailed by a krogan. The turian spoke to potential voters, his voice light as went on about seeing them on election day. He was confident. Or, at least, he gave the impression of being so. A politician would look bad if seen skulking around so close to the election. Even if he knew there was a price on his head. Joram didn't make it a point to piss people off, but there was no making everyone happy. He didn't _want_ to make everyone happy.

Shepard strayed in the shadows, her eyes narrowed towards the subject. Every time Talid took a step, she did, too, careful to not lose sight of him for too long. She was Thane's sense of sight. Without her, he'd lose them, and everything would come to a crashing halt.

"It's been wonderful talking with you all!" While the Wards were crowded, as usual, and the lanes were filled with every kind of noise, she could still hear Talid above the rank and file. "I hope you'll come out on election day!"

Shepard lifted a hand to her earpiece. "I'm on him, Thane. He's talking to some voters."

"Understood."

"You're in position?" she asked, taking a step forward as Talid began to move.

"Yes." The krogan's gait kept Joram from walking too fast, giving Shepard just enough time to swipe a hand along the door's access pad and make her way to another piece of catwalk. "I'm following."

By the time she reached the other side, footfalls carefully measured to keep from making too much noise, she heard Thane's voice quiet in her ear. "Have you got him?"

"Looks like he's talking to another voter."

"Any sign of Kolyat?" She couldn't decide at first if it was because of the earpiece or not, but Thane sounded tense. Then again, he was technically hunting his own son. A usually predatory man was altered when he was forced to look for his own blood.

She bit back the desire to say something comforting, instead giving him a simple, "No."

There was a pause. "I'm moving to another position, ahead of him."

"It's been wonderful talking to you all," Talid told the voters. If there was one thing politicians had down to a science, it was repetition. The salarians seemed to eat right out of his open palm, though. It all depended on how easily you put your trust in someone. Repetition and memorization became a reiteration of the truth when you truly believed in that person. "I hope you'll come out on election day."

Shepard moved forward, barely touching the access pad before stepping through the sliding door. Her eyes were in constant movement. Looking for Talid. Looking for Kolyat. Trying to find some hint of where Thane was located. Her heart stuttered under the pressure. She wasn't used to this kind of situation. She could shoot a gun, but there wouldn't be any of that here. Not now.

"No problems so far," she heard in her ear. But she was too busy keeping an eye on Talid to pay much attention to what was being said. The two stopped in the middle of the lane to talk just as Thane's voice filled her head again, "Do you have the target?"

"I've got him."

The words had hardly fallen from her lips when she saw Talid begin to move again. "Target in sight." The faint growl in her ear pushed her forward. Even steps, no noise, and a quick eye was all she needed. She didn't need her guns. She didn't need to hug cover. She didn't need to blow anything up. She was just watching. So why was her gut so twisted up on the inside?

"Can you give me an update?"

Everything was passing so slowly, yet Shepard felt like she couldn't keep up. She hated feeling out of her depth. "The krogan just went into Aquila," she said softly, taking a step back into the shadows when Talid glanced upwards in impatient frustration. "We have to hurry. I think he's getting suspicious."

"Take your time, Shepard," he replied. His voice was a comforting hum in her ear, and she felt herself relax at his words. "Be careful. Always mind your body. It is carelessness with that which leads to trouble."

"I'm not being careless." Her voice was little more than a quiet protestation. "This isn't how I normally go about things. You know what as well as I do."

She could hear Thane take a slow breath. "I have faith that you will lead us to where we need to be in time."

Shepard was usually the one giving the encouraging speeches. She could rattle off inspiration like no one's business, but she wasn't used to needing that sort of support herself. Why was she so nervous? The idea of failing to get there in time was a common one for the Spectre. She ran on an invisible clock more often than she didn't. But it wasn't just the lives of a civilian politician on the line. Thane's son needed their help.

With newfound composure, Hermia trailed the catwalks, each step in stride with the turian politician, gray eyes narrowed on the krogan's heavily armored back. Every time Thane asked for a heading, she gave him one. A few words were shared between a group of krogan, probably guards just like the one with Talid.

Her hand found the access pad that separated her from where Talid disappeared. Before the door even slid open all the way, she could see a young man standing in the room. Great. Another hurdle.

"Hey! Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Shepard paused before stepping in an taking on an official tone. "I'm with Citadel Health and Safety," she began, giving him a cordial smile. "We've had vermin reports in storage areas around here."

She could see the color leave the stock boy's cheeks. "What? You can't be serious… How did you get in here?"

"If I didn't have authorization, how did I get in?" She arched a brow as if unimpressed with his lack of logic. "Do you see any other doors?"

"Ne - Nevermind. Just go on through, okay?"

Shepard gave him her thanks and was through the door before he had the chance to warn her about his superior. Her pace slowly picked up as she made her way through the final strip of catwalk before it dropped of into a set of stairs. "Thane, do you have him in your sights?" she called into her comm as she rushed down to the main floor.

"I don't have him, Shepard," came Thane's quick reply. "You have to hurry. He's probably waiting for Talid."

"Shit."

Jumping down the final two stairs, she hit the floor and set off in a run. Weaving in between civilians, not bothering to give them any apologies, she finally came to a breathless stop when she saw four figures moving towards a door. Talid. The krogan. One human, male. And a drell. With a gun.

"Kolyat!" Shepard yelled.

Talid and the krogan whipped around to the sound of her voice. So did Kolyat. Her warning gave Talid enough time to see the gun in the young drell's hand and take off in a run towards his apartment, but the krogan wasn't fast enough. Kolyat squeezed off a round into the thick muscle of the guard's back before taking off after the politician.

"Thane?" she called out. Her hands found the crate dividing her from the boy and she vaulted herself over, landing as gracefully as she could on the other side. The weight of her armor brought her down for long enough to see Thane's sleek figure dart out in front of her.

"I saw," was all he said. It was all he had time to say. The air in his lungs was reserved for the run, not idle speech while his son chased after the man he was paid to kill.

Shepard found her footing and ran after him, "He's heading to Talid's apartment!"

By the time they arrived, she was afraid they were too late. They found Talid standing very still in the living room of his home, the faint white glow from the windows casting a shadow over his features. Shepard's heart nearly fell when she saw the turian drop slowly to his knees, revealing the assassin. All she could think of is how much he looked like Thane.

Hermia's pistol as already drawn by the time Thane stepped up beside her. It was a useless threat. He had a gun pressed to the back of Talid's head. He was so close to going through with the assignment. But instead of giving him some line about taking a step in the wrong direction, she stayed quiet. This wasn't her place to speak. This was Thane's son. He would speak to him.

"Kolyat."

The young drell went rigid at the sound of his own name. "This -- this is a joke, " he spat, pressing the barrel of his gun roughly against the back of Talid's head. The politician was shaking. "Now? Now you show up?"

"Help me, drell," Talid stammered, not daring to look up. "I'll do whatever you want."

"C-Sec," came a familiar voice from Shepard's back. It was Bailey. A turian officer stood beside him, wielding the same pistol as the former. "Put down the gun, son."

Kolyat's eyes flashed to the cop. "Get out of my way." There was a firm underlying threat in his words. From what she'd seen, the boy was sloppy, but he was confident in his ways. That would give him an edge. A slight one, but an edge. "I'm walking out. He's coming with me."

"There will be snipers outside," Thane offered.

The young drell didn't even flinch. So he was confident. Confident and stubborn. If there was one thing Shepard had had enough of today, it was stubborn men. "I don't need your he --" He went silent and his eyes went wide when Shepard squeezed the trigger of her pistol, sending a bullet whizzing right beside his head. "What the hell?" Taking a step forward, Shepard gave him a well-aimed fist to the face. Nothing to hurt him, just something to take his mind off of his hostage.

Talid nearly jumped to his feet when he felt the barrel off of his neck. He shot Shepard a look as if to ask her for any directions she'd give. "Talid, get the hell out of here."

"Yeah. Yeah! I will." Clutching at his side, the turian staggered out of the room.

Bailey fell directly into habit. He'd done this so many times before it felt like clockwork now. He gave the officer at his side a look. "Take the boy into custody."

"You son of a bitch!"

Shepard whipped her head around to Kolyat, not even vaguely trying to hide any of the animosity in her eyes. "Your father doesn't have much time life, Kolyat." Her nostrils flared. She hated disrespect nearly as much as she hated seeing people taking their families for granted. "He's trying to make up for his mistakes."

"What?" Kolyat didn't seem upset. If anything, he seemed even more annoyed than he had been. Shepard felt a heat spreading over her skin, concentrating on her fingers as they reflexively curled into a tight ball. "So you came to get my forgiveness? So you can die in peace or something?"

But Thane was not angry. He turned to his son, looking him over for a long while before stepping forward. "I came to grant you peace." He paused as he collected his thoughts. He'd often thought of what would happen when he was reunited with his son. None of this came to mind. "You are angry with me because I was not there when your mother died."

Kolyat gave a snort of annoyance, crossing his arms and taking a step back. "You weren't there when she was alive." Bitterness twisted around every word that passed his lips. It colored them and caused Shepard to feel even worse for Thane. "Why should you be there when she died?"

"Your mother," Thane began, his eyes leaving Kolyat's face and focusing instead on a spot on the ground. Words. He couldn't find the words. Admissions of truth usually came so easy to him, but this one caught in his throat and refused to be spoken. He couldn't look up at Kolyat. He couldn't look his son in the eye. "They killed her… They killed her to get to me." Finally he looked up at him. "It was my fault."

Shepard's heart lurched in her chest. Kolyat's reaction was similar, though he was able to vocalize a quiet, "What?"

Thane took a quiet breath. "After her body was given to the deep, I went to find them. The trigger men. The ring leaders. I hurt them. Eventually killed them." His voice was painted with a shade of remorse Shepard had never heard before. No one could hear this man and believe that he was not truly sorry for his actions. "When I went back to see you, you were… older. I should have stayed with you."

Despite everything, when Kolyat spoke, his voice remained the same. Annoyed. Unimpressed. "I guess it's too bad you waited so long, huh?"

"Kolyat." Shepard could hear a slight waver when Thane spoke his name. Every part of her yearned silently to rest a hand on his back, to show him that there was someone standing behind him, to give him some small bit of support. But she did not move. She waited, hands clasped before her, and watched. "I've taken so many bad things out of this world. You're the only good thing I ever added to it."

There was a prickling in Hermia's eyes, and she clamped her teeth down on the inside of her bottom lip as she felt tears swell in them. She blinked them back, thankful for Bailey's interruption. "This isn't a conversation you should have in front of strangers." He turned to his men. "Boys, take Kolyat and his father back to the precinct. Give them a room and all the time they need."

"You're doing him a favor, Bailey," Shepard told the Captain, "Thanks."

Bailey rubbed the back of his neck and gave a quiet chuckle. "Yeah, well, send me a Christmas card or something." He nodded towards the door. "I have to get back to the precinct. Come on. I'll give you a lift."

Shepard nodded, but turned to glanced back at Thane before she, too, disappeared out of the door. Sensing that he and Kolyat weren't the only ones left in the room, Thane looked over his shoulder. Even in the dim lighting, she could see that his cheeks were wet.

"Thank you, Shepard."


	7. Chapter 7

"You _have_ to talk to him, Shepard."

"I know," Hermia groaned, "I know, I know, I know."

_For a woman with so much to do in the near future, she sure is spending a lot of time around my terminal_, Kelly thought to herself as she skimmed over her own inbox. She knew what it was about, though, and knowing this made her smile the tiniest of smiles. After this last mission on the Citadel, Shepard called off the debriefing, claiming that she'd file the reports herself on her own time. Something had gone down. That much was obvious.

And that something had to do with Thane. After one of her usual casual conversations with him - she made a point to talk to the crew as often as possible, she'd found him in lighter spirits. This made Kelly glad. Thane was a solemn man. He wasn't overt with it or even depressed, but he was certainly solemn. Or, at least, he had been. Whatever happened down on the Citadel most certainly wasn't a bad thing. "Last time I talked to him, he mentioned you."

Shepard perked up at that. No more slouching. "Did he really?" Not a second later, she felt her cheeks burning and she turned away from Kelly. What a ridiculous reaction to something as small as that.

"No, but look what just happened," the yeoman grinned, triumphant. "Go talk to him. It's been days."

Shepard glanced back at her. "Another request?"

"You betcha, commander."

She really didn't understand Kelly's stance on the situation. If she wasn't such a bright girl with such a serious resume, she'd have thought the yeoman was trying to play matchmaker. Sure that wasn't the case, Shepard made her way over to the elevator and punched in her destination. Crew's quarters.

Kelly was under the Illusive Man's employment. She wouldn't risk doing something that would distract her, would she? Humanity was at stake. Even a bored pseudo-secretary wouldn't take that time to throw a wrench into everything. Unless that was her idea of getting Shepard relaxed… If it was, she could've chosen a different target. Taylor, perhaps. He didn't have a son. He wasn't dying. She wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't even looking for a serious thing.

Then again, Shepard never showed any interest in Jacob Taylor. Kelly would have recognized this and altered her plans accordingly. "Great," Hermia murmured to herself as the elevator door slid open. She was being sabotaged by the girl who kept a watch on her mail.

Crossing the hallway towards Life Support, she paused for a moment near the door. What would she talk to him about? Every time she'd come in here, she had something vaguely resembling a plan. A detail or a topic that she wanted to talk about - drell religion, their homeland, his skills or his memory. When nothing immediately came to mind, she stood there, wracking her brain to think of something.

She was standing in front of the door for so long that it slid open on its own. Sitting at his usual spot overlooking the drive core, Thane turned around in his chair. Hermia tried her best to muster a smile. "I just thought I should check in," she began as she made her way over to the table. Sitting down on the chair in front of him, the curl on her lips spread just a little more, morphing an unsure smile into a genuine one. "How are you doing?"

"I am well," he replied, "I find myself wishing I had more to tell Kolyat. The fear that he may return to crime keeps me from sharing tales of my assassinations." Thane paused, and Shepard watched as he drew absent circles on the table. "I do not have much to tell him otherwise. It troubles me."

"You can tell him about how his father's helping save the galaxy," Shepard said with a feeble laugh.

Thane glanced up from the table, his lips twisting in amusement. He was not the one saving the galaxy. That was Shepard. Any "help" he offered could have easily been found elsewhere - hardly an inspirational story to share with one's son. "I believe Captain Bailey will use his gravitas and experience to better Kolyat in ways I could not."

"There are shadows of doubt. Confusion, even, that I did not feel before I found him again. I find myself speculating on choices I have never questioned in all my years. How things would have changed if I had not gone after Irikah's murderers. If I stayed with Kolyat, raised him as a father should raise his son."

There was a waver in Thane's voice that was almost painful to hear. The man who she'd initially seen as confidence personified was filled with uncertainty. He was pleased, but he was in pain. When the twitch returned to her palm, she reached forward without a second thought and placed her hand on his wrist.

His eyes went to hers, but they did not force them away. Black caught grey. Doubt mixed with consolation. Warmth was shared on both sides. She didn't understand the feeling that unfurled itself in her gut when she looked at him. It wasn't friendship. Attraction, maybe, but slight. Curiosity? Respect?

"That's all in the past, Thane," Hermia said softly, "You can't change it, but you can fix it. You _will_ fix it."

The drell's eyebrow ridges pulled inwards, and he nodded. "You are right." His eyes fell to her hand as she drew it away. His skin was warmer where she'd laid her fingers. The sensation was odd. "What of you, Shepard? Do you have family?"

"I… do," she said, leaning back slightly in her chair. "But it's not a typical family. I consider Joker family. Tali and Garrus are like sister and brother to me. Kelly is like a distant cousin." She could see Thane's expression shift to one of confusion. "I lost my family when I was a teenager. Sixteen." Confusion bled into concern, but she shook her head. "Don't worry about me. I'm okay. The Alliance is my family now. My crew is my family."

"I must admit," Thane began after she finished speaking. "You are nothing like the woman I imagined, Shepard."

Hermia arched a brow. "Really? It's that 'planets go nuclear when Shepard's around' thing, isn't it?" She gave a little laugh, shaking her head again. "I'm never going to live that down. Even the Council is eager to jump on mentioning Virmire when something goes wrong. Pistol overheats and is rendered unusable? Probably Shepard's fault. Small kitchen fire in the mess? Must be Shepard!"

She was forced to bite down on her lip to keep from rambling on.

Thane found himself chuckling. "You are not exactly subtle, Shepard." His eyes lingered on her face. She was looking away from him, her own gaze settled upon the illuminated shelves on the far side of the room. Her skin was a pale, almost milky white, a stark contrast to her dark hair. Her eyes were large. Her lips, full. Her nose was strong and straight. If her looks were paired with another voice, another personality, he would not have found her attractive.

But she wasn't different. He knew he was a fool to be intrigued by the commander; he was not hesitant to admit that to himself. With death upon him, now was not the time to become entangled. Not with Shepard. Not with anyone.

When she stayed silent, Thane continued, "I did not mean any offense."

He saw a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. She turned her face towards his, shoulder hitched up in a shrug. "I know." He didn't seem like the sort of man who'd offend someone on purpose. Plus, subtlety was overrated - the first thing she learned in the Systems Alliance. Subtlety was for salarians. Well, _most_ salarians. "I've just always been so absorbed in my own work that I never really…" she stopped, brows creasing as she tried to bring the word forth, "understood how to go about things delicately. Not when there's so much pressure. It's like trying to disarm a bomb with a dozen people shouting at you."

"I have always used meditation to sharpen my focus. A calm can be found there that words cannot describe." Thane tilted his head forward, "You should try it."

"Meditation, hm? You know, I think someone mentioned that to me once or twice. There's this human discipline called yoga. Some of the Marines I knew back in training used it to calm their nerves. I never even thought about trying it since I'm used to just wearing myself out until I'm bone tired and then sleeping for a few hours." Her words trailed off, and she laughed at herself. "Which is probably why I have trouble remaining _serene_."

Thane wondered for a moment if his encouraging meditation was even a good idea. It was Shepard's bravado that often kept them out of trouble or stopped them before they did something morally wrong. He'd seen her step up and slap Zaeed in the face - a thirty-one year old woman stepping up to a much older man with much more experience killing. He'd seen the fire in her eyes when they left to find the hostages, and those flames weren't only mirroring the burning refinery. They were internal. Her passion was what intrigued him. Her passion while she was under fire and her nervous energy while she was not, like two vastly different beings simultaneously inhabiting the same body.

He glanced away when he realized he was staring. "You should try it," he said quietly. "But do not let yourself become _too_ serene. You may forget why we are out here in the first place."

"Big, ugly once-Protheans," Shepard breathed a laugh, "Yeah, I don't think I'll be forgetting about them any time soon."

"I only wish that you be careful, siha."

Hermia's mind skipped right over the sentiment and instead focused on the final word to part from his lips. She quirked a brow, shifting forward on her chair. "I'm not sure if I heard you right. A problem with my translator, maybe." She tilted her head to the side and peered at him, curious. "You just called me something."

Thane only smiled that same ghost of a smile she was now so used to seeing. "I called you _siha_. It is something I will explain at a later time, I think. For now, I should return to my own meditations."

"Oh, uh… okay," Shepard murmured. "I won't keep you then." She began to get up, but stopped beside his chair before she left the room. "It was nice talking with you."

"And with you."

Shepard's mind was a jumbled mess by the time she reached the elevator. What the hell was going on? What did that… _word_ mean? She absently punched in her destination as she leaned against the cool metallic wall. And why did she feel so flushed? She reached a hand to her cheek, brushing her fingers over her skin. This wasn't happening. Not again. Why did high risk missions always end up with her sharing the same ship with interesting men? First Alenko, now Thane? It was as if her superiors - or, in this case, the man funding the outfit - did it on purpose to see if she'd be able to work under even more pressure than was already heaped upon her.

When the elevator slid open, Shepard released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in a sigh. She'd never been so happy to see Kelly. She went to stand by her terminal and was awarded a hint of a smile from the yeoman. That was followed by a full-on grin when Kelly saw the look on her face coupled with the flush of her cheeks.

"You're _blushing_, commander."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Hermia shook her head. "How much do you know about the drell…?


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** You guys, I'm so, so sorry for taking so long to get this out. For some reason, I just hit a block with this story, and it took a while to get over it. I hope any tardiness can be forgiven! I promise I won't do this again!

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Her entire body was tense. Her muscles fought each calming breath she grasped for, keeping her entire frame taut despite how much she willed it to relax. She struggled to focus on her body, each movement, each tightening muscle, and each shallow breath. Maybe she could force it to relax. But forcing it to relax would only wind her up more.

Shepard bit back a curse as she narrowly avoided a fist to the face, tilting just far enough to feel the rush of air that followed the blow. Her mind was struggling to be recognized, to tear her away from the spar so she'd focus on the reason she ended up down here in the first place. Normally, she wasn't one for hand to hand combat, but she needed the adrenaline rush to get rid of the stress that was slowly building within her. She needed to get out of the cabin, away from the CIC, and actually fight.

Of all the Normandy crew, she hadn't expected to be on the mat with Donnelly. She wasn't about to be picky when it came to sparring partners, either. He'd been down here warming up when she wandered out of the elevator. After side-stepping his usual banter, he fell into a fighting stance, a crooked smile on his face, and offered to give her a run for her money in compensation for her beating him at Skyllian Five.

"You're not giving me much of a fight, commander!" The engineer's voice pulled Hermia away from her concentration, and she leapt back a foot to avoid his outstretched arms as they searched for a grapple. "Are you even trying?"

"Not really." Shepard gave a small, humorless laugh as she bounced in place. After nearly twenty minutes, neither of them got a hit on the other. There were times when they got close to connecting, but the other always dodged, too quick. The thick fabric of her plain gray top clung to the small of her back, damp with perspiration. It was really warm down here. "Do you _want_ me to try?"

Kenneth paused, "No. No, I don't want you to try."

As a few grisly ends no doubt ran rampant in his mind, Shepard took a long stride forward, hooking her ankle around his and taking him down. He hit the mat with a surprised gasp. Manhandling the innocent, even after he'd insisted there be no direct violence. Shame. Instead of getting up from his back, the engineer stayed there, shutting his eyes. He looked serene, as if he was falling asleep, and Shepard didn't even bother moving from where she collapsed beside him, leaning on his stomach.

"I've had dreams about this moment." Despite his serious tone, a smile teased his mouth, soon breaking completely when he heard her laughing. She half-heartedly slugged him in the shoulder when he tried to lift himself up into a seated position. Wiping at his eyes, his laugh suddenly cut off when he saw that they weren't the only ones in the hull anymore.

Shepard jerked her head around to see who he was staring at only to find Thane standing not far off from the mat. His hands were clasped behind his back, feet firm on the ground and pushed apart, shoulders pulled back as they usually were. There was a faint smile in the corner of his mouth. "I'll, uh," Kenneth muttered, hoisting himself up from the ground, "I'll be off now. Nice sparring with you, commander." And like that, he was gone.

"Need something, Thane?" she asked, rubbing her forearm carelessly along her damp forehead.

"I only wished to speak with you," he replied, making his way onto the mat. "I didn't mean to interrupt." He held out a hand to help her up, an expectant expression on his face. Her eyes fell to his palm. There was a moment where she thought she'd ignore it and climb up on her own, but she wasn't rude. No, she'd take his hand, even if it did make her stomach flip over like she was a teenager again. When she finally slipped her hand into his, she felt herself lifted up from the mat as if she weighed nothing.

"Thanks," she muttered with a little laugh, slipping her hand out of his and taking an unconscious step back. "What did you want to talk about?"

Thane hesitated. He didn't know why, but he hesitated. After sitting in Life Support since the last mission, his coffee long cold, he'd forced himself up out of the chair and called for EDI, asking her for Shepard's location. The compulsion to seek company out felt odd for him; increasingly so when he realized he had a heading. Without even taking a moment to contemplate who he wanted to spend time around, he'd picked one out of the crowd.

Why was this happening, and why was it happening now? He had just enough time for those thoughts to solidify in the pit of his stomach as the elevator made its way down into the hangar.

No matter how many times he witnessed Shepard in combat, there was always something different about her. The first time he saw her, she'd left a trail of scarred buildings and bodies behind. That was followed by her agile use of her rifle, as if nothing existed outside of her sights. Then, later, she used heavy handed diplomacy to get a name out of Kelham, followed by her nimble shot at Kolyat that flustered him just enough to distract him. And today - today, she was tense, incredibly so. She was as light on her feet as he expected, and she was quick, as well. Still, something about her was awkward.

"I wasn't with you when you were on Tuchanka," he began, large, dark eyes following her as she moved around on the mat. Not only was she tense, but she was unfocused. He knew the feeling. "However, I heard that you were able to kill the Thresher Maw."

He caught a small smile flit across her lips. "Yeah," she shot over her shoulder as she stretched, fingers nimbly grasping at her own muscle as she extended her arm across her chest. "Explosions and whatnot. I thought Wrex was going to hurt something laughing when I told him I nuked the thing."

That approach was by and large expected of her. She knew it. Hell, part of her even accepted it. Still, she'd have done anything to be capable of stealth like he was. Even as most of her combat relied on her sniper rifle, she found herself in close combat much more than she'd ever like to admit. Which was why the fact that she was so tense annoyed her. "Anything else you wanted to talk about?" she asked him, turning around on the mat, head tilted to the side. "You don't want to spar, do you?"

Thane chuckled, shaking his head. "No, I have no interest in sparring with you."

"Aw, come on." Hermia beckoned towards him with her arms, an almost innocent expression on her face. "We can make a deal." When she saw his eyebrow ridges twitch downward in curiosity, she didn't even fight her smile. Hook, line, and sinker. "If I win," she began, motioning to herself, "You tell me what 'siha' means. If you win…" She paused, her arm extended towards him, but her mind focused elsewhere. What could be his end of the bargain? Maybe he should come up with it. She looked to him, fingers splayed in his direction.

"I would be willing to tell you what it means without having to spar," Thane said in his usual, casual tone.

"Don't be a wet blanket."

"An interesting human phrase."

Hermia gave a snort of laughter before falling into a fighting stance, her entire form balanced, the sluggishness he'd witnessed earlier almost completely gone. "Fight me. We can figure out your prize later."

If there was one thing Shepard noticed readily about Thane, it was his grace. Every movement of his was precise, almost beautiful in its simplicity. The way he moved on the battlefield was something to behold, if you're not being riddled with bullets. Swift, silent - a true assassin in every meaning of the word. She often called her thoughts back to one of their first conversations, when he'd gone into striking detail of his training with the hanar. At first, it seemed cruel, training such a young child in the art of killing. But then she realized - only starting that young would produce a man with Thane's fine-tuned skill set.

So, when Thane didn't move from his spot on the mat, his eyes focused keenly on her face as she shifted in place, she noticed.

"Oh, come on, you're not going to hurt me."

The light, teasing air in her voice made him smile - a quiet curl at the corner of his mouth. He hardly moved as she took a step forward; his only change in stance being to let his hands fall to his sides. "I'd hate to be remembered throughout history as the man who broke Commander Shepard's neck before the end of her mission."

"Well, if that happens, no one will be around to write it down," Shepard grinned wolfishly. She was enjoying the idea of sparring with Thane. Usually she made it a point to spar with any of her new squad mates, just to see how they were physically. You could learn amazing things by fighting with someone. How she'd overlooking the possibility of sparring with him, she had no idea. Maybe she'd been too shocked by him telling her he was dying to offer. That must've been it. "So you'll get off without a hitch."

"That is not exactly a comforting thought, siha."

At the word, Shepard lurched forward, arms outstretched in a grapple. Not a moment after her fingers grazed his shoulder, she was being turned around, wrist held behind her back and her shoulders pressed to his chest. She could feel his fingers clutching around her forearm, holding her still and holding her close. Barely another two heartbeats pounded in her ears before he let her go and she moved forward, eager to get a few paces between them.

Ah, so he wasn't going to play games. She could adapt quickly from a teasing spar to a true match of strength. She'd done it with Miranda; she could do it with Thane. It was also obvious that he wasn't interested in making the first move. _At least he isn't standing still anymore_, she thought to herself as she watched him with narrowed gray eyes as he took a slow, even step to the left.

How to you fight such a well-trained man? The thought circled in Hermia's head as she watched him, eyes barely flickering in reaction to her own internal musings. She was good. Hell, she was better than good. She wasn't the best at hand-to-hand combat, but she was nothing to sneeze at. But without her sniper rifle or her omni-tool, she wasn't the tried and true killer everyone saw her as. She needed tools, and Thane's most honed tool was his own body.

The next time she reached out for a grapple, he didn't have enough time to react. She slipped around him, arm curled around his neck, until her chest was pressed into his back. The hold wasn't enough to hurt, but not loose enough for him to easily struggle free if he tried. He shut his eyes at the feeling of her breath warm on the back of his neck, his only response a deep, rumbling chuckle.

She released him a moment later, keeping her eyes focused on nothing but him as he turned around and took a few steps back. She could tell by the look on his face that she'd surprised him. That was good news.

He moved like he was made of air. There, but not there at the same time, flowing around her, a warm, oddly tender gale that curled around her neck and pushed her to the mat.

Shepard gave a gasp of surprise when she hit the ground, though before she could regain her composure she was laughing at her own sudden position. His arm was still swooped around the back of her neck, his hand cradling the back of her head, but he was half-lying across her chest, his face mere inches above hers.

She struggled to get herself free, but was denied. "Damn it," she muttered, her lips twisted in a sardonic half-smile. That was fast. No one had ever taken her down that fast. But she was too busy being annoyed to be impressed. She'd _really_ wanted to best him, for bragging rights and finally being able to figure out what "siha" meant.

"I said that I would tell you what it meant without a spar," Thane replied.

How did he know what she was… Hermia's brow dipped at her own thoughts. He always seemed to pick up on anything she didn't say. Thoughts, even fleeting intuitions in the middle of a fire fight. Kelly never mentioned anything about drell being psychics. The thought sent a shot of fear down her spine, but she quickly recovered. "Then tell me."

"One of the warrior-angels of the goddess Arashu," he murmured. His tone was serious; his eyes intensely focused on her face, watching for any small reaction to his words. "Fierce in wrath." An eyebrow quirk, very slight. Minor widening of her eyes. "A tenacious protector." Lips turned upwards at the corners. A smile without bearing teeth. Eyes dilated slightly. But what was she going to do? Her body was tense, as if she was contemplating something, figuring out the move she should take.

She shifted in his arms. The stress of the mission, the dull aches and pains from the string of recent close calls, how close he was, the smell of him, like leather and coffee and quiet spice - everything pulled her in one direction, shoving all caution and timidity aside. The inches between them grew to nothing as Hermia lifted herself off of the mat and pressed her lips to his.

But it was his hesitation that pushed her away. His mouth didn't move beneath hers, his only response a slight, if unconscious, shift backwards, away from her.

Fire colored her cheeks as her hands went to his arm still wrapped around her. The soldier's newfound strength forced him to release her as she clambered up from the mat. Her fingers went to her neck, anxiously massaging the muscle there as she tried to find some sort of apology, some reason to get out of the hangar as soon as humanly possible.

"I'll, uh," Shepard muttered, brow creased as she looked towards him, hating herself for the warmth that only worsened on her face when her eyes met his, "I'll talk to you later."

Thane watched her as she disappeared into the elevator.


End file.
